


Riding A Sunset

by QAtheAuthoress74



Series: Transformers - Knightverse [1]
Category: The Transformers (Cartoon Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers - Bumblebee (2018)
Genre: Alien Cultural Differences, Autobots As People, Charlie has the Patience of a Saint, Dadimus Prime, Decepticons As People, Developing Friendships, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Except for Drift, Friends to Enemies, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, Homophobic Language, Intergenerational Friendships, Jack Burns Is Trying, Jack Burns and Charlie Burns are brothers, Multi, People As People, Period-Typical Homophobia, Post-Bumblebee (Movie 2018), Ratchet is everyone's Grumpy Grandpa, Robot/Human Relationships, Slow Burn, Smart Decepticons, Team as Family, The Jetfire/Windblade/Starscream is a love triangle, Transformers - Knightverse, Unofficial Sequel, Xenophobia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-03
Updated: 2019-10-20
Packaged: 2019-10-21 19:17:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 19
Words: 166,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17648414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QAtheAuthoress74/pseuds/QAtheAuthoress74
Summary: Over 10 months after “Bumblebee", the titular robot decides to return to Brighton Falls for someone who brought him back to life. Charlie Watson is thrilled to have her friend back and is surprised to meet his fellow Autobots. Unfortunately they aren't the only Cybertronians on Earth. The world will never be the same. For better and for worse.__"You've got me," Charlie whispered. Her hands were placed firmly on both sides of the yellow 'bot's helm. Her brown eyes locked onto his blue optics. "And I'm not going anywhere."





	1. Prologue: I Can't Wait

**Q-A:** (Pokes head from bunker after disappearing for five years) Heeeeeeeeeey, well. This is embarrassing. I am very much aware that I have other stories I need to complete on FF.net and Ao3 respectfully but I need to be honest for a minute. I was suffering from a serious case of writer’s block back in 2015. I was dealing with my junior and later senior year of college and then having to transition back home. I wanted to get back to fanfiction but then I went on this awesome trip through Japan after I graduated in 2016 that same year and then the holidays happened. I then just took a year off to recharge myself while also taking a few online classes to get all my credits. I spent the remainder of 2017 looking for either an internship or a job. I finally landed a job working at a local movie theater in 2018. Because of how flimsy my schedule was and that the theater was pretty new too I had no idea when I’d write. I have had brainstorms of ideas but not enough to motivate me into writing a serious story again. Until (drum-roll)…. BUMBLEBEE! I don’t know what it is about that movie but I just love it so much. I love the story, the characters (‘Bee and Charlie especially), the fact it’s not awful like all the Bayformer films (sans possibly the ’07 one), and it’s directed by one of my new favorites, Travis Knight (if you haven’t seen his other film _Kubo and the Two Strings_ yet, stop reading this super _aft_ -long Author’s Note and go watch the movie. I promise I’ll wait).

….So, I don’t know when I’ll get back to my incomplete works, but I hope to once inspiration for them springs out like it did for this piece. This is kind of a big test for me to see if I can commit to a multi-chapter story and complete it like I did with _Seeing Isn’t Believing_ five million years ago.

 

If any of you are still reading this and haven’t clicked away or just skipped the AN, without further ado let’s get on with the story.

 

 ** _Disclaimer:_** I do not own _The Transformers._ It solely belongs to _Hasbro_ and _Paramount_. The songs referenced in this chapter belong to their respected producers/singers.

“Yes, I know you  
Though we've been out of touch  
Yes, I know you  
To be continued,”

\- "I Can’t Wait" by Stevie Nicks 

* * *

 

Location: Loch Lomond Reservoir, CA. Date: May 28, 1988

 

The abandoned mine looked different the last time the calvary scout was there.

Though Ratchet’s radio transmitter did say it was currently one breem passed 0300 hours on the Pacific Time Zone. There were only three life forms in the area now. Him, the Autobot’s Field Medic, and their demolition expert. Ten Earth-months ago the young scout was alone in the daylight after his escape pod crashed on the planet. Then a dozen human soldiers had cornered him in front of the mine. He was also an Earth vehicle called a _Jeep_ for about a groon until the Decepticon, Blitzwing, showed up. He later became a _Volkswagen_ , and currently a _Camaro_.

 

Primus, that felt like an eternity ago. The infamous day the young soldier defeated the red/silver Shifter only to have his memory cells fried and lose his voice synthesizer in the process.

 

Speaking of which.

 

“Careful Brawn.” A voice drew the black/yellow scout from his ruminations. It belonged to Ratchet. The taller and older Autobot barked indignantly and used his vocal processor to project his voice. “A fall from that high up means I’ll have to patch you up after I take care of ‘Bee here.”

 

Near the mountain’s top another metallic being waved off Ratchet’s caution. He climbed the face of the mountain without a care in the world. “Stop worrying, Ratch’. My atl-mode is an off-roader for a reason.”

 

 “I highly doubt rock-climbing is what your vehicle mode’s original creators had in mind,” Ratchet deadpanned.

 

The smaller Autobot placed a hand over the medic’s shoulder.

 

“[Ziit]-He- _Will_ - **BE** -fine-Doc,” Bee spoke, his voice an abundance of voices and songs found on his alt-mode’s radio.

 

Ratchet vented before he pinched his olfactory sensor. “Why do I always get paired with the youngest ‘bots?”

 

The Autobot next to him buzzed surly. “Brawn-[ziitt]-is- **older** -than- _you_.”

 

“By half a vorn. Not much of a difference.”

 

Brawn, meanwhile, pulled himself over the edge of a cliff. He used his headlights to illuminate the ground while the crosshairs over his HUD boosted the sight in his optics. At that moment all Brawn saw was dirt, rocks, grass, and the occasional Earth-based insect. Brawn silently hoped they didn’t have a taste for metal.

 

Ratchet glanced at the mountain briefly and then sighed. “He’s been up there for over five kliks. If he doesn’t find what we came here for-”

 

“FOUND IT!”

 

“ _Celebrate good times, come on_!” ‘Bee threw his right arm up and his optics glowed with unbridled joy.

 

Ratchet had trouble hiding his slight grin and opted to clear his intake valve.

 

“Great~ Now get your skidplate down here before I blow a fuse from stress.”

 

Brawn used the struts of his pedes to skid down the mountain before transforming back into his alt-mode once the land curved. He returned to his standard form once he joined the other two ‘bots. In Brawn’s servos was a triangular shaped apparatus made of metal and wires.

 

‘Bee’s faceplate quivered when he recognized the object.

 

“THANK-you- _very much_ -Brawn-y,” the scout wrapped his arm over the shorter Autobot’s backplate.

 

Brawn brushed him off playfully. “No need to get mushy on me.”

 

“Yes, don’t celebrate so quickly. I still need to examine the vocal synthesizer,” Ratchet informed with a voice that reminded the other two ‘bots why he was a field medic.

 

‘Bee stood as close as he could to Ratchet. He buzzed, which led the older mech to stare at him before the scout quickly covered his mouth-grill.

 

After a tense klik Ratchet raised his helm. The scout ‘bot stared anxiously at him. Brawn had his arms crossed and glanced at the two.

 

Ratchet didn’t conceal his smile that time.

 

“Aside from a obvious needle puncture wound there isn’t any other serious internal damage I can find.” He gave ‘Bee a raised optical ridge before he continued, “You’re lucky no rust or other outside elements ruined this to re-attach to your vocal circuits. After some old wires are removed and the shell gets a resealing, of course”

 

Ratchet waited to conclude his prognosis of the semi-mute mech after the later finished dancing.

 

Brawn had a nonplussed expression on his face as he leaned towards Ratchet. “When did he start to act like this?”

 

“You just noticed that now?” Ratchet asked. “That ‘bot’s been acting like he has had a glitch ever since we arrived on Earth.”

 

Brawn raised his servos in defeat. “Alright, alright. Let’s get back to Temp-base. Quit that dancing, B-127.”

 

The scout stopped his movements before he turned on his speakers to converse with an all too familiar recording.

 

“My- **Name** -[ziit]-Is-Bumblebee,” Bumblebee declared while he pointed to his chest plate.

 

“Not sure how you could’ve forgotten that ‘Bee chose a new designation for himself,” Ratchet queried. He didn’t wait for Brawn’s answer as he shifted into his vehicle disguise. “If you want your voice restored, Bumblebee, I need my tools and supplies. The sooner we’re home, the sooner you don’t have to keep talking through that radio.”

 

Brawn and Bumblebee soon transformed and the three rolled out of the quarry. Thanks to ‘Bee’s engine he was in the lead while Brawn was behind his tail and Ratchet followed not to far behind.

 

After the three Autobots drove onto the main road Brawn sped up to drive side-by-side with the Camaro.

 

::You know somethins’ been bothering my processor for a while:: The Land Rover leaned close to the muscle car. ::Why did you start calling yourself Bumblebee?:: Brawn asked through his commlink.

 

Earlier, ‘Bee had started fiddling with his radio to pass the time but then suddenly fell silent.

 

The medical ‘bot noticed the lack of music in the air. ::Everything okay up there?::

 

“ _Yeaaaaaaaaah~!_ ” Bumblebee suddenly pulled on the breaks and slowed his pace to drive next to Ratchet. ::Can I-Axe- **You** -a- _simple favor_?::

 

::What is it?:: Ratchet silently hoped it wasn’t an extravagant request.

 

::There-[ziitt]-is-something that I- **need** -to do-before-I- _get back, get back_ -my-voice.::

 

Brawn became curious of the conversation and slowed to a cruising speed. ::What is it you wanna do, ‘Bee?::

 

The two other ‘bots obviously couldn’t see it but Bumblebee was smiling underneath the car’s hood. A plan formulated inside his cerebral processor.

* * *

 

 Location: Brighton Falls, CA. Date: June 4, 1988

 

“I’m relieved?” Charlie Watson stood inside Hotdog On A Stick’s break room, gaping at her boss.

 

Said boss, Craig, rolled his eyes and repeated in a dull tone, “Due to the lowering demand of hotdogs on a stick in the last fiscal year the company has concluded-”

 

“Yeah, I know why I’m losing my job you don’t need to say it again,” Charlie interrupted. “What I want to know is how much longer I can work here and when we’re closing.”

 

Craig responded in his bored drawl, “The stall is being repurposed into a taco stand tomorrow.”

 

“That soon? When will the company come here to reclaim their stuff?”

 

“The food company rented a truck. They expect us to move the store’s supplies in there.”

 

Well, Charlie thought her day couldn’t suck anymore than it did then.

 

Over three hours passed, Charlie was sweaty, tired, and covered in grease from the fryer she helped Craig pull into the U-Haul.

 

“Expect to get your final paycheck in the mail in about two weeks,” Craig said after he closed up the truck’s back doors.

 

Charlie did her best not to look too agitated.

 

“Thanks, Craig.” Charlie was about to walk away until she thought of something. “Do you know if any of the stands here are looking for more employees?”

 

“No.” Craig was helpful as ever.

 

Charlie went back to the stall to change into her street clothes and went to the least smelliest restroom to clean up as best as she could with the hand soap and water. She walked through the parking lot ready to head back home for a real shower when the mechanic came across the last people she wanted to see. Three girls in neon bright tube tops and acid washed denim shorts.

 

“Did you just get fired back there?” the snobby voice belonged to no one else but Tina Lark, the tallest blonde in the trio.

 

Charlie groaned. She had no time for this crap. “I’m not in the mood right now, Tina.”

 

“Aw, but you now don’t have to wear that ugly uniform anymore.”

 

“It’s better than the outfit you’re wearing,” Charlie snarked back. “Did you just walk out of a _Jem and the Holograms_ commercial or are you just trying to look like a _Barbie_ knock-off on purpose?”

 

Nearby a couple of guys chuckled, including Charlie’s old crush Tripp Summers.

 

Tina fought back a scowl. While the blonde seemed to be trying come up with a good comeback inside her tiny brain Charlie walked over to her bike.

 

“Yeah, well where’s your Corvette? Or did you sell it for parts like you did with your crappy beetle bug.”

 

What Tina didn’t see was that Charlie gripped tightly on her handles. The eighteen year old breathed through her nose to calm herself. She turned around and gave the taller girl a sweet innocent smile.

 

“It must be where your old BMW went.”

 

Tina’s smirk went away.

 

Charlie kicked her kickstand up and rode back home.

 

Charlie felt ridiculous for talking back to Tina. She and her mean girlfriends were not worth it. But the moment Tina insulted her old car Charlie had to say something. Still, Charlie had been aware for a long time that there are worse things out there than just mall brats. She had seen things most people thought only came from movies and science fiction novels her old neighbor liked. Charlie knew that there was life beyond Earth. Charlie knew humans were not alone on the planet. Charlie knew all this because she knew _him_. The first true friend she made in years. The friend who helped her became herself again. The friend was also her old yellow Volkswagen and a robot. The friend who wasn’t-

 

Charlie hadn’t realized she was crying until she stopped at a red light. She shook those depressing thoughts away and turned the volume up on her _Walkman_. Stevie Nicks’ vocals drowned out everything but the traffic.  

 

In all honesty her life had improved a bit after Bumblebee left. Charlie was close to her mom again, even if they still didn’t always see eye to eye. Otis was less of a dweeb since he stopped trying to use big words to sound mature. And Ron was… he was still Ron but Charlie liked him more after seeing his driving moves and when he later asked for mechanic advice for the station wagon. Her friendship with Memo was going all right even after he got a summer internship.

 

The only relationship in her life that she now had trouble with involved a car. Not a robot disguised as a car, her cherry red corvette c1. For a few months it stalled if she drove it more than thirty minutes and the accelerator got stuck in place. Charlie was not going to give up on her and her late father’s car but had to accept that she needed help from a professional mechanic. Too bad she just lost the only job that gave her any income aside from a small monthly allowance. But like she thought before things could be a lot worse.

 

(Like every living thing on Earth burning in an apocalypse led by the Decepticons, laying waste to kill off the remaining Autobots.)

 

Yep, Charlie was certain things could be a lot worse than they are now.

 

 _So, why do I need to keep reminding myself that?_ Charlie wondered as she arrived at her driveway. Nearby she noticed the mailbox’s flag was erect. After Charlie parked her bike in the garage she went back to the mailbox all pulled out the letters. She inattentively skimmed through the junk mail, barely spared a glance until one card caught her eye. The mechanic recognized a crest on an envelope and eagerly cut it open with her finger. She removed the letter and silently read the contents. The hopeful smile that she had slowly vanished after she finished reading.

 

“Figures, had to jinx myself earlier,” Charlie sighed before she angrily shoved the letter into her back pocket.

 

Charlie opened the front door and was immediately welcomed by her mom who still wore her scrubs. She must’ve had a shorter shift today.

 

“Hi, honey you’re home early,” Sally said as she placed dishes into the new dishwasher Sector 7 bought them.

 

“So are you.” Charlie did not want her mom to ask about work for obvious reasons.

 

Sally shrugged. “Work was surprisingly slow today. They said I could leave early since we had more than enough nurses.”

 

“Right ‘cause it’s like we don’t need the money or something,” Charlie muttered while she headed to the new fridge, that Sector 7 also purchased, for a soda.

 

After Charlie befriended Bumblebee he may have accidently wrecked the living room of her house, including most of the appliances. Sector 7, a branch of the U.S. Government responsible for detaining and secretly torture alien robots on the side, quietly paid the Watsons with hush money to repair the damages done to the house. It was like they were sorry for getting Charlie electrocuted, wrongly accused of theft, and almost killed in that exact order. Or at least Agent Jack Burns was since he came to their house a week after ‘Bee left to personally deliver the check.  

 

“Mom, I’m pretty sure we’re out of Tab again,” Charlie announced after shoving her head into the fridge for more than a minute.

 

“Well, the sticky notes for my grocery shopping list are on the refrigerator for a reason,” Sally pointed out.

  
Charlie rolled her eyes.

 

“Charlie, I can practically hear you rolling your eyes behind my back,” Sally reprimanded.

 

“We’re home.” The front door opened again, this time Otis came in. Ron followed close behind his stepson.

 

“Hey, my little man,” Sally chimed after she left the dishes and hugged her son. She then gave Ron a kiss and Otis faked a puking noise. He looked down and noticed an envelope on the floor.

 

“Hey this is addressed to Charlie.” Charlie’s hand immediately went to her back pocket and found nothing. The letter must’ve slipped out when she bent down in the fridge.

  
“Wait, Otis don’t-” it was too late. Her brother had read the letter judging from the stunned expression on his face. Sally and Ron read over Otis’ shoulder and both carried equally shocked reactions.

 

“Guys,” Charlie began, trying to smooth out the tension. “It’s really not that bad I-”

 

“Oh, sweetie. Why didn’t you tell me you got rejected,” Sally said after she embraced Charlie.

 

“I only got the letter today and look it’s not that big a deal.”

 

Sally shook her head. “Of course it’s a big deal. Charlie this was the third school you got rejected from. This is horrible.”

 

“Seriously, Mom, this isn’t the worst thing that happened to me today-” she cut herself off before she said anything worse but Ron caught it.

 

“Wait another bad thing happened?” Ron jumped in.

 

Charlie sighed. This was getting out of hand. “Nothing, Ron. I just,” she trailed off after realizing that she couldn’t lie to her family. Not again. “I lost my job this afternoon, but not because I got fired,” she added to assure her mother. “The food stand is shutting down because not enough people were buying food from us.”

 

Sally raised a hand over her forehead. “First your job and now this?” ‘This’ being the rejection letter she now held in her hand after taking it from Otis.

 

“Mom, I’ll try and find another job tomorrow. I could finally convince Uncle Hank to let me work for him.”

 

“After all the times he said no?”

 

“If I tell him I got fired maybe he’ll change his mind,” Charlie tried to sound optimistic. Emphasis on tried.

 

“I just don’t understand why this happened. You’re a smart kid, Charlie. Why can’t any of those colleges see that?”

 

Charlie smiled slightly at her mom’s praise. “I don’t know Mom. Look can I just-”

 

“I’m going to go call them,” Sally declared as she headed towards the corded phone.

 

Ron hurried over and blocked Sally. “Let’s not get hasty here. I’m mad about this too but we don’t want to do anything we might regret later.”

 

“Those college admission reps have no right to have said no to my daughter.”

 

“Mom,” Charlie started to say but Sally paid no attention as she tried to reach the phone.

 

“Technically they do have the right to say so, Sally but I’m sure we can find another place nearby,” Ron said sanguinely.

 

“The last three universities were the only ones that we could afford to send Charlie to.”

 

Charlie step forward and raised her voice a tad higher. “Guys.”

 

“Hey if those rep guys show up I’ll puncture their spleens,” Otis threatened. He then did a series of karate kicks and chops. “Nobody messes with the Watsons.”

 

Conan began to bark from all the excitement and danced between everyone’s legs.

 

Charlie felt a headache coming along. She tried to rub her temples but it didn’t help. The brunette took a deep breath and shouted, “GUYS!”

 

All three of the talkative Watsons, and the dog, stopped their actions and stared at the eighteen-year-old.

 

“I’ve had a long day, guys.” Charlie rubbed her eyes, she already started to feel uncomfortable with the attention she was getting. “I’m tired, sweaty, and I’m pretty sure I smell worse than Conan after he’s eaten something that’s not dog food. So, I’m gonna go shower and just sleep for the rest of the day in my room. Okay?” Charlie didn’t wait to hear them answer as she walked out of the kitchen.

 

“What’s eating her?” Otis asked a moment after Charlie slammed the door to the bathroom.

 

Sally sighed.

* * *

 

 Charlie lied.

She didn’t stay in her room after cleaning the stench of failure off. Instead the mechanic went to the one place she felt like herself. Charlie lay atop of her Craftsman Creeper as she tried to find whatever faulty car part or other problem beneath her red corvette. Like all the other times before she was unable to locate the source of why her Chevy convertible was misbehaving.

 

Charlie was unable to calm down; in fact all that work on the sports car just made her feel even more frustrated. She tried to look through her videotapes and found no films to brighten her mood. Her eyes landed on a shelf with a row of familiar records and one with songs performed by Sam Cooke.

 

Charlie’s eyes began to sting.

 

Knock-knock!

 

The mechanic blinked the newly formed tears away and turned her attention towards the door.

 

“Come in.”

 

Sally walked in with a glass in hand. “Hey. I brought some lemonade. Since you were hard at work in here and everything.” She paused and asked, “I wasn’t interrupting you was I?”

 

Charlie shook her head.

 

“Do you still want the lemonade?”

 

Charlie shrugged. She accepted the glass but did not take a drink. Her fingers played with the water droplets on cup.

 

Sally suddenly sat next to Charlie and nudged her shoulder playfully. “Are you actually going to talk to me or just keep giving me the silent treatment?” Sally couldn’t help but snark.

 

“I miss him.” Charlie revealed after a minute of silence.

 

“Dad? You miss him? Otis and I miss him too sometimes.” Sally regarded all the memorabilia that belonged to her late husband. “Obviously not as much as you but-”

 

“No. Not him. I still miss Dad too. I meant my friend.”

 

Sally quit her reminiscing. She gave Charlie a sympathetic smile.

 

“Who? You mean Memo? You can always call him-”

 

“I don’t mean Memo.”

 

Sally sighed tiredly. They had this conversation before.

 

“Charlie, you know Sector 7 said we can’t talk-”

 

“We’re not in public, Mom. It’s not liked they bugged the garage or something and besides we can’t pretend like it never happened.”

 

Sally nodded, albeit reluctantly. Sally didn’t understand why her daughter was so attached to the yellow Volkswagen but it/him was the reason Charlie started smiling again so she did want try to listen.

 

“You’re right but we still can’t talk about … your friend out in the open. I’m sorry you had to say goodbye but it was for the best. We couldn’t keep a robot in the garage forever.”

 

That made Charlie snort. “Only if we gave him enough tapes to watch. Nevermind.” She added after her mom gave her a funny look.

 

“I know it’s hard having to say bye to a friend or a loved one. Believe me, I’ve been there. What matters is what you do after. You either chose to stay in touch, or you don’t, or promise not to forget them.”

 

“I did promise ‘Bee I wouldn’t forget about him.” _He made it very clear that he didn’t want me to either,_ Charlie thought to herself. She could still remember Simple Minds’ signature song blaring from ‘Bee’s radio as he drove away.

 

“Well then that’s your answer,” Sally said. She wrapped an arm over Charlie’s shoulders and stared directly into her daughter’s eyes “Once you’ve met someone they never leave your heart.”

 

“Thanks, Mom.”

 

Charlie wraps her arms around her mother’s waist and the two shared a warm embrace. At least they did until the mechanic’s stomach growled. Both Watson women couldn’t stop themselves from laughing.

 

“Perfect timing,” Charlie said sarcastically. She got off from the bench and followed Sally into the house.

 

“How about we go out to eat tonight?” Sally suggested. That got everyone’s attention. Otis ceased playing _Pong_ on the t.v., rushed over and started to list off some of his favorite restaurants.

 

“I think we should go out to that Chinese place Charlie likes,” Sally said after she vetoed Otis’ ideas.

 

“Dragon Of The Black Pool?” Charlie perked up. She hadn’t been to that place in months.

 

Otis groaned. “I hate Chinese.”

 

“Yeah, well we’re all going together. Just like we all went to Chuck E. Cheese’s when you passed your final exam in May,” Sally said. She, Charlie and Ron inwardly shivered as the traumatic memories flooding through them.

 

Ron picked up his wallet and headed for the hall closet. “Alright so let’s get our jackets kids and head out.”

 

“It’s summer.” Otis complained.

 

Sally handed her son a jacket anyway. “The weatherman said there’s cold front coming later and I read that bacteria affect people with lowered body temperatures. You too, Charlie, get your coat.”

 

Charlie put on a cotton jacket, unlike the green leather one she lost during the fight with the Decepticons. She then tussled her brother’s hair. “Don’t be so glum. Chinese food tastes good and is good to eat for a karate master like you.”

 

Otis pushed his sister’s hand away and made a face. “Yeah, vegetables. And if we’re eating out I can’t just feed them to Conan while Mom isn’t looking.”

 

“I heard that.”

 

Charlie laughed while her brother groaned. 

* * *

 

The atmosphere inside Dragon Of The Black Pool was casual. It had the façade of a California surf-shop fused with an Asian seafood store that somehow worked. The Watsons’ (and Ron) sat together in a booth already in the process of eating appetizers.

 

While Sally monitored Otis to make sure he ate his vegetables Ron turned his attention towards Charlie.

 

 “Hey Charlie,” Ron waved.

 

“Yeah, Ron,” Charlie said, her tone neutral.

 

“I know you must still feel bummed out about not getting accepted but I’m sure things will work out.”

 

Charlie was touched by Ron’s concern even if he made it sound understated.

 

The mechanic shrugged. “There’s always Trade School.”

 

“You’re not going there,” Sally said distractedly just as she caught Otis put his carrots on Charlie’s plate.

 

Charlie winced slightly from Sally’s comment and moved her chopsticks over her spring rolls. Ron noticed Charlie’s sudden mood shift and delicately placed his hand above her own.

 

Charlie stopped playing with her food and stared at Ron. Ron awkwardly removed his hand. “You remember when I was having trouble getting work ten months ago?”

 

“Yeah.” Charlie said.

 

“It was hard. Having to go to interviews only to get rejected. It felt like a punch in the gut every time I heard them say no. I kept thinking like I was a failure as I walked through our house’s front door. It took me a while to figure out that it wasn’t me that was the problem, it was the places I applied. Eventually I found my place at James Roberts’ travel agency. The point I’m trying to make Charlie is that we don’t always find what we’re looking for the first, second, or even third time. It just takes a bit of soul searching before you can find where your true calling is. You’re a smart, talented, funny person, Charlie. There’s bound to be a place for you somewhere. You have all the time in the world to find where you belong.”

 

The whole table was silent when Ron finished. Sally beamed fondly at her husband and Otis decided to finally eat his carrots and greens.

 

Charlie smiled and realized that she had stopped playing with her food for sometime because she was engrossed with what Ron said to her.

 

“I-That was really nice Ron. Thank you,” she said.

 

Ron grinned. “You’re welcome.”

 

**End of Prologue**

 

* * *

 **Q-A:** Well, that’s the beginning… of the end! XD Just kidding. I hope to make this a nice long multi-chapter story and considering that this prologue is almost 5000 words I have to say I’ve got my work cut out for me. But like I said before I want to commit to this story 100% not abandon it. Considering how much TF material I can work with I am optimistic.

 

References:

 James Roberts is the writer of _T_ _he Transformers: More than Meets the Eye_ comic from IDW Publishing. It’s a really great comic book series and any fan of TF should check it out.

The restaurant Charlie and her family went is a nod to _Big Trouble In Little China_ though I didn’t come up with that myself since apparently Charlie was supposed to go to a restaurant with the name in the film. According to TFWiki.com 

TFWiki was used for most my Cybertronian terminology and time units

Another site I used: <http://transformersgalaxyrp.freeforums.net/thread/9/transformers-body-parts>

 

Songs Used:

Chapter title: I Can’t Wait by Stevie Nicks

Celebration by Kool and The Gang

Won’t Get Fooled Again by The Who (just a sample of the ‘yeah’ lyric honestly)

Get Back by The Beatles

Keep on Writin’ and Rockin’


	2. Let's Go!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You'd think after 10 months Bumblebee would know the difference between an Earth pebble and a rock.

**Q-A** : I am so glad about all those wonderful comments I got from all of you and the kudos were lovely as well.

 _ **Disclaimer** :_ I do not own The Transformers. It solely belongs to Hasbro and Paramount. The songs referenced in this chapter belong to their respected producers/singers.

 **Warnings** for this chapter are:

swearing, ‘poorly’ attempted home invasions,

and some slight internalized xenophobia (it’s there if you squint very hard).

 

"She's driving away with the dim lights on

And she's making a play, she can't go wrong

She never waits too long"

– “Let’s Go”, by The Cars

* * *

 

Location: Brighton Falls [City Limits], CA. Date: June 4, 1988

 

The electrical lights in the coastal town glowed against the twilight sky. Bumblebee could faintly see the stars from his sensors that allowed him to gaze while in vehicle mode. He could also see that Brighton Falls hardly changed since the last time he was there. Hopefully someone else hadn’t changed that much either.

 

 _It couldn’t have been that long._ ‘Bee thought as he pulled over towards the county line. The rush of sea-salt air blew over him in a comforting manner as though it wanted to encourage his positive neural processing.

 

Yep, he had a good feeling about tonight.

 

::Oh, ain’t that a pretty sight:: A black and white _Porsche_ parked by ‘Bee.

 

::[Ziit]- _We see the bright lights of the city. The colors change, they re-arrange themselves in different patterns_ :: Graham Gouldman sang over ‘Bee’s radio.

 

::Mmm hmm. You took the words right outta my intake:: The Porsche leaned closer to ‘Bee. ::So is your special lady-friend really down there?::

 

::J- _Seven_ -2-2-U- _Gotta have faith, faith, faith_.::

 

J-722 laughed through his commlink. ::Okay, easy there. I trust you Lil ’Bee. So, which building unit is your friend located?::

 

‘Bee skimmed through his radio for a moment and said, ::Can-you- _wait_ -out- **here**?::

 

::You know Optimus said for me to come with you as back up::

 

::I just-[ziit]-need to do this alone:: Bumblebee searched for more radio signals. ::I-don’t- _want_ -to- _freak out_ -Charlie Watson-and-her- _family_ ::

 

J-722 thought over what the scout said before he conceded. ::I get’cha. You don’t want to overwhelm the humans. But I’ll be nearby so I can still reach your commlink if something bad goes down::

 

:: _Under_ -stood:: Bumblebee revved up his engine and drove down the road. ::Thank- _you_ ::

 

::Be careful Lil ‘Bee:: J-722 turned towards his right when his EM field picked up something passed the trees. ::Hmmm, I wonder what’s over there::

 

* * *

 

Bumblebee followed J-722’s warning as he travel through downtown Brighton. He made sure to scan every speed limit sign he saw because as fun as it was he couldn’t afford another car chase with the local human law enforcement. ‘Bee briefly searched through his memory files and found the one that detailed the Watson's address. He then looked for the street signs that would lead him to his final destination. ‘Bee could feel his struts shake with excitement as he pulled into the recognizable cul-de-sac. His giddiness turned to confusion when he noticed the Watson family vehicle wasn’t present. The lights in the house weren’t on as well. 

 

 _Did they move?_ Bumblebee had no time to process when he spotted unfamiliar headlights approaching the dead end. ‘Bee transformed into his default form and jumped over a wooden barrier and pressed his frame low to the ground. The scout’s HUD activated after his mask slid in place over his faceplate. His crosshairs zoomed in on the dented blue car that parked on the edge of Charlie’s home. Moments later two young human males walked out and headed to the threshold.

 

Bumblebee’s optics narrowed. He enhanced his audials to the highest frequency he could manage without damaging himself to hear the duo’s whispering.

 

“-told you, Evan. These people are loaded. Just look at all the fancy shit in the house. And remember that red corvette that chick drives around town? I bet it’s worth a lot...” ‘Bee was unable to hear the voice of the other human but could read his lips. Evan said he did not think breaking into the house was a good plan because the owners could show up at anytime. The other human shoved Evan’s shoulder. “Relax they’ve been gone for hours.”

 

The yellow scout’s frame quivered angrily. He was very, very tempted to come out from hiding and scare the living scrap out of those thieves. Bumblebee knew better though. He couldn’t let his selfishness ruin the Autobots’ fragile safety on Earth. There had to be another way to force those humans to leave. An old memory file pinged inside his cerebral processor. The file contained a story that J’ told him that involved Prowl.

‘Bee stealthily snuck above the barrier, made it to the outer entrance of the street, and transformed into his alt-mode. In one Astro-second he found the sound bite he was looking for.

 

EEE-WOO! EEE-WOO! EEE-WOO! EEE-WOO!

 

“This is Law Enforcement. Come out with your servos up!”

 

For an added effect Bumblebee flashed his front lights on and off. In a couple of Earth seconds later his audials picked up the two home invaders cursing and jumping into their battered vehicle and drove way above the neighborhood’s speed limit.

 

‘Bee buzzed deviously after he turned his front lights off and silenced the radio. He knew keeping a recording of Prowl’s police car siren and audio bite was a good idea. Or it was until the lights in the housing units turned on and he heard human voices. ‘Bee quickly reverted to his bi-pedal mode and found his original hiding spot before he was seen. The Autobot waited for a breem after the humans went back into their homes again to check to see if the coast was clear. He vented out relief when he saw no one but became disappointed when he could not see his friend yet.

 

 _’might as well recharge for a bit while I wait for Charlie to return._ Bumblebee shifted into his vehicle form and shut his processor down. 

 

Bumblebee snapped out of slumber when he heard a ping that came from his main processor. Somebot was trying to reach him through the commlink.

 

::J’ **is** - _that_ -you?::

 

::Dang, ‘Bee! I’ve been trying to contact you for the last klik and a half::

 

::Sorry-I-was- _re_ - **charging** while- _waiting-_ for-my friend::

 

::Your friend is missing?::

 

::No-[ziit]-She-just- **went** -out- _somewhere_ -[ziit]-She-should be:: the yellow/black scout trailed off. He partily transformed so his upper half was out. He lifted his helm over the wooden barrier and saw the green car Charlie’s carrier, spark-sibling, and Ron drove. ::She’s here:: His spark and engine thrummed with happiness but quickly started to wonder how long did he sleep. ‘Bee checked his internal chronometer and learned that the current Earth time was 0026 minutes past 0200 hours.

 

Bumblebee vented in frustration.

 

::We’re pressin’ for time, ‘Bee. Optimus didn’t want us to be gone longer than a meta-cycle::

 

:: **I** -know- _I_ - **Will** - _Find her_ -[ziit]-soon::

 

::I’ll take your word for it:: was the last J’ said before he shut off the connection. ‘Bee fully transformed out of his alt-mode and stood up. He was about to leave the green terrain behind the housing unit until his optics landed on a window. ‘Bee moved towards the glass and peaked to examine the interior. Inside on a small berth was Charlie! He recognized her long brown hair and metal-head shirt and shorts she liked to wear. ‘Bee judged that Charlie was recharging on the berth because her brown optics were closed and vented regularly through her olfactory organ. A part of Bumblebee didn’t want to wake her up but he knew J-722 and Optimus were waiting for him. ‘Bee looked around his environment to see if there was anything he could use to his advantage.

* * *

 

The cold front that Sally and Ron worried over came and went an hour after it arrived. The air was sticky with humidity once again. The sudden weather change forced the Watsons, along with their neighbors, to close their windows and pump up their A/Cs.

Inside the Watsons’ home there was a room with walls lined with _The Smiths_ , _Bon Jovi_ , and a few other bands. They all had different sounds but that’s what Charlie liked best. The eighteen (for two more months) year-old slept with her bed-sheets pushed to the edge where her feet laid. Charlie turned to her side but woke up after she felt something hard push against her left ear.

 

 _This is what I get for falling asleep with while listening to music,_ she thought bitterly. She glanced at her alarm clock and saw that it was 2:27.

 

In the morning. Ugh.

 

Charlie carefully placed her _Walkman_ and its headphones on the shelf above her bed. Charlie silently decided to never pull an all-nighter again even if Ron politely asked her to check the family's station wagon. She pulled up her thin top-sheet and began to clear her mind to fall back into unconsciousness.

 

Click.

 

Or so she thought.

 

Click.

 

The teenaged mechanic groaned as she leaned forward to turn the lamp above her on. Nothing appeared out of the ordinary. None of her model cars or mix-tapes from her shelves had fallen off. Her band posters and picture frames were still hanging from her walls. She listlessly wondered if Memo was throwing rocks at her window again even though her house only had one floor. Her mind suddenly remembered one important detail.

 

Memo was doing a summer program at Caltech. In Pasadena, which was over 380 miles from San Fran.

 

CRACK!

 

Charlie yelped in alarm. The glass in her window broke from a large rock that tumbled into her bedroom. “What the Hell?” She jumped out of bed and grabbed the nearest motor engine she could find to protect herself with. “Okay you asshole. If you think breaking into my house is a good idea I…” the mechanic trailed off the moment she looked outside her window.

 

Crouched in a sitting position was a bright yellow robot with two black stripes over his chest, which was also the grill and headlights of a _1977 Chevrolet Camaro_. On his back were two wheels and doors flatten down with the appearance of wings. His legs and arms were long and covered with yellow platting over silver metal car parts and wires. On his head were two little antennae that currently stood upright and attentive. His helmet matched the primary color except for his face, as it was silver with two electric blue eyes bright and round. Some parts of him were different but Charlie could recognize her friend from anywhere. Bumblebee was here. He came back.

 

“’Bee?” Charlie almost took a step forward but remembered the broken glass on the floor. She quickly pulled her bed sheet and hastily covered her floor and walked over to the window. Charlie pushed it up and took her hand out. ‘Bee in turn pressed his face against her palm and closed his eyes in content.

 

Charlie gasped in delight. She felt like crying. “It’s really you.”

 

‘Bee opened his eyes to her and turned his radio on. _“_ [Ziit] _-_ _Now they're waiting in line to go dancing with Charlie. They want to be seen dancing with Charlie.”_

 

Charlie laughed. “Still using the radio I see.”

 

Bumblebee’s eyes dimmed slightly and his head drooped while he let out a depressed sounding buzz.

 

Charlie became very guilty. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that-”

 

“Charlie? What’s that noise?”

 

“Crap, my mom. ‘Bee you need to get out and-”

 

“What the Hell is that thing?”

 

Charlie and ‘Bee turned their attention towards the doorway in Charlie’s room and saw Sally and Ron gaping at them.

 

Charlie and ‘Bee were momentarily stunned from the intrusion. The eighteen-year-old struggled to find the right words to say. “Mom, Ron-and Otis? Okay you’re here too.” Her little brother had appeared out of the blue, staring along with their mom and stepfather. “Um, remember that friend I told you guys all about? The Volkswagen that Uncle Hank gave to me but it was actually a robot from outer space? Well, I’d like you to meet, Bumblebee.” She glanced over at the yellow ‘bot. “‘Bee this is my family. You can say hi.”

 

“[Ziit]- _You say ‘Goodbye’ and I say ‘Hello, hello, hello’.”_ Bumblebee waved for good measure. 

Ron grinned. “Wow you’re a Beatles fan?” 

 

Sally sighed. “Okay. Let’s move this over to the garage, please. I don’t want the neighbors to see. You too, um Bumblebee. Just don’t step on the fence or something when you come over.” She pointed at Charlie and the aforementioned car/robot hybrid. “You two have some explaining to do.” The Watson matriarch all but dragged Ron and Otis away from the door and headed down the hall.

 

Charlie and ‘Bee winced at the same time. ‘Bee fiddled with his radio. [Ziit]-“Did-I-get- **you** -in- _trouble_?”

 

Charlie pursed her lips and shook her head once. “No. I don’t think so ‘Bee. We’ll all just talk and figure this out.”

* * *

 

‘Bee was not completely sure what Charlie’s carrier, Mom, meant by ‘don’t step’ on anything since he did need to walk over the ground in order to reach the garage. He thought that she referred to only stand on the flat square stones but his pedes crushed them by mistake. ‘Bee tried to put the pieces back together but all that did was make them smaller. The Calvary scout decided he was wasting time and hopped over the _fence_ and turned into his vehicle mode in order to enter the garage. Charlie closed the door behind him and he slipped back into his bi-pedal form. His audials heard gasps and he saw Mom, Otis, and Ron stood very closely by the smaller door in the room. ‘Bee settled on a crouched position but he sat far enough from the small red car so he doesn’t break it. 

 

“It’s okay.” Charlie walked to her family. She attempted to coax them forward. “He’s trying not to scare you guys.”

 

Mom looked like she was having trouble processing. “Why is this-robot-car-being doing here?”

 

‘Bee was about to answer but Charlie beat him to it. “I don’t know, Mom. All I remember was me going to bed after we went out and I looked after the station wagon and then suddenly ‘Bee shows up at my bedroom window-” she ceased talking and turned her attention towards Bumblebee. “Why did you come back ‘Bee? It’s not the Decepticons is it? Are they back?”

 

Bumblebee sensed the distress in Charlie’s tone and he quickly shook his helm no. “[Ziit]- _I_ -came-here-for- **you**.”

 

“For what?”

 

“Your mission, Jim, should you choose to accept it-is to- _come with me-_ ”

 

“On an adventure?” Charlie smiled, intrigued.

 

“You aren’t going anywhere,” Mom stepped between them. She stared at Charlie. “I can’t just let you go out in the middle of the night with a robot that we barely know.”

 

“I know him,” Charlie said firmly. “He’s my friend and if he needs my help with something I should go. Mom, you always tell Otis and me to help others when they need it.”

  
“I was talking about human people,” Mom said exasperatedly.

 

“’Bee’s still a person. If he needs me I gotta help him. He’s helped me a lot too.

 

“Well, the robot didn’t stick around to help after our house got destroyed,” Mom pointed out.

 

Bumblebee winced. He was afraid that the humans still remembered what he had done to their home. ‘Bee leaned towards Mom and stared at her. “I’m-sorry-[ziit]-about-that-mom.”

 

“Mom? Why is he calling me that?” Mom whispered to Charlie.

 

“I think he doesn’t know your real name because I kept calling you that around him while he was a Beetle Bug.”

 

“Okay. My. Name. Is. Sal-Lee,” Sal-Lee enunciated slowly to Bumblebee. Behind her Charlie covered her face with her servos for some reason. ‘Bee kept his focus on Sal-Lee but he had to lower his audials because she raised her vocals rather loudly. “And. That. Man. Over. There. Is. Ron. And. Next. To. Him. Is. My. Son. Ohhh-tiz-And. That-”

 

Charlie intervened. “Mom. He can understand you just fine. ‘Bee can’t speak. He’s not deaf. ‘Bee.” The yellow ‘bot followed Charlie’s digit as it pointed at Sal-Lee first. “That’s my mom. Her actual name is Sally. Yeah, I know it sounds confusing just go with it and the two over there are Ron and Otis.” ‘Bee waved at the humans and made sure to save a memory file that Sal-Lee is pronounced Sally. He’ll ask J’ or Ratchet later if either of them knew the meaning of the term “mom”.

 

“Okay,” Sally said. “So why should I let you go with a robot? How do I know you’ll be safe, Charlie?”  

 

 _“I would hate anything to happen to her,”_ Bumblebee said to Sally but looked directly at Charlie.

 

“You still listen to _The Smiths_?”

 

Bumblebee responded with twisting his right servo to make a ‘so-so’ gesture. J-722 told him that after doing some recon, J’ noticed that young humans are keen on signaling with their servos a lot. They apparently prefer to use fewer words as possible when they communicate with each other. ‘Bee hoped that if he attempted the gesture that it would please Charlie. When he saw the amused grin he had to say mission accomplished.

 

“Mom,” Charlie took her mother’s hands and held them. “I know this is crazy but if ‘Bee needs me to help him I have to go.”

 

 _“_ [Ziit]- _just for one day,”_ Bumblebee added.

 

Charlie nodded in understanding. “See, it’ll just be for a day. I’ll be back in one piece. I swear Mom, I trust ‘Bee. He won’t let me get hurt.”

 

Sally considered what Charlie said but still appeared uncertain. ‘Bee tentatively tapped Sally on her shoulder. She was startled at first but complied. Bumblebee whispered (through various radio/audio clips) to her what he honestly planned to do with Charlie and wanted to keep it a secret from her in order to keep it as a surprise. Sally finally looked less apprehensive and began to smile. At last she complied “You better make sure she gets back home,” Sally warned. “I don’t want a scratch on her.”

 

Bumblebee nodded his helm earnestly while Charlie let out a whoop and opened the garage door.

 

“Don’t forget to put on some real clothes before you go,” Sally said to Charlie.

 

“Okay, mom,” Charlie sighed. She stared at ‘Bee. “Can you wait for a few minutes?”

  
‘Bee nodded and sat patiently while he waited for Charlie to return from inside. His memory file pinged and reminded him that he was now alone with the remainder of the Watsons.

 

Sally pushed her hair back, Ron coughed and Otis kept staring at him.

 

“Can I interest you in some… motor oil while you wait?” Ron asked after a klik passed.

 

‘Bee blinked while he stared at Ron in confusion and Sally smile awkwardly.

* * *

 

 “What did you say to my mom to get her to change her mind?” Charlie asked after she returned. She had quickly raided her room for the cleanest clothes she could find. The mechanic settled on a t-shirt with _The Smiths_ on it, her worker overalls as pants and a pair of black leather boots. Her socks were mismatched but Charlie didn’t care enough to find identical ones. Her hair was brushed but she didn’t bother putting her usual mascara on.

 

“Secret,” ‘Bee winked. He transformed into his Camero form. He opened the driver’s door.  _“Let’s go!”_

 

“What?” Otis said, incredulous. “He could turn into a muscle car this whole time? Why didn’t he do that before? Hey Charlie can your robot boyfriend turn into the car from _Back To The Future_?”

 

Charlie glared at Otis. “’Bee’s not my boyfriend. He’s a guy robot that turns into a car that just happens to be my friend. And no Bumblebee won’t turn into a _DeLorean_ because that car may look cool it has a lot of problems under the hood.” Charlie slid into the front seat. She leaned her head near the dashboard and whispered, “I think your _Camero_ and _Bug_ forms are much better.”

 

Bumblebee let out a soft whirl in pleasure.

 

“Don’t forget to put on your seatbelt,” her mom said before she handed Charlie a bottle of water and a brown paper bag. “And here’s some water and sandwiches: PB&J. Eat and drink plenty while you’re there.”

 

“Okay,” Charlie said but was paying more attention towards Bumblebee as he put the seatbelt on for her. “‘Bee that’s a little tight,” she complained when she started to lose blood circulation around her waist.

 

“[Ziit]-Sorry.” The Camaro buzzed. The car engines then started to purr before going into a full out roar.

 

Charlie grinned behind the wheel. She missed driving with ‘Bee.

 

“Don’t worry about the broken glass, Mom I’ll clean that up later.”

 

“Wait, what glass? CHARLIE!”

 

Charlie laughed as ‘Bee zoomed through the neighborhood and eventually drove down to a coasting speed once they were downtown. Because of how late it still was there were no other cars on the streets. Even Sheriff Lock was not on patrol.

 

“Okay, so what’s the plan? You’re not going to put me in a dumpster again are you?” she teased.

 

“Secret,” was ‘Bee’s only answer.

 

Charlie raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, you said that already. Can’t you give me a hint?”

 

“Nope,” Bumblebee said. He buzzed an octave, which was very implicit to laughter.  

 

Charlie pouted and crossed her arms. _This is gonna be a looooong early morning._ And then the other part of her mind said, _I hope the ride never ends._

 

**Beginning of The Road Trip Arc**

 

* * *

 

  **Q-A:** I must admit it was both harder and easier to write this chapter because I have a better handle on what the format of it is but writing the parts with Charlie’s family was difficult. I hope Sally didn’t come off as offensive to anyone. She’s not trying to be xenophobic towards ‘Bee but when you are a mother who found out that your daughter almost got killed by giant robots and one shows up at your house it’s natural for you to get a little bit unnerved. And the fact that said robot wants to take your kid away on some vague journey to who knows where isn’t very good either. I promise that the Watsons won’t stay scared of ‘Bee for long (well, Otis wasn’t completely scared since I’m pretty sure every boy wanted to meet a real robot once in their lives).

Can anyone guess who J-722 is? Well I hope I made it obvious enough but I still think his mannerisms should’ve given it away. XD  Ha. But seriously with how many human characters there are in the TF franchise to pick from I’d rather use pre-existing ones instead of just making up some O.Cs. That includes the robots too. Also I always wanted to use that one line for _Mission: Impossible_ and I’m happy I did. ***Crosses that off bucket list*** Anyway, this chapter is the beginning of an arc that’s coming up. I won’t say anything else to not spoil anything. ;)

References: 

The ever silent Evan and his unnamed brother (Myles) are from the show _Transformers: Rescue Bots._

"Your mission Jim, should you choose to accept it," is from  _Mission Impossible._ The television show from 1966. (Not the films starring Tom Cruise.) 

 

Songs Used:

Chapter title: Let’s Go by The Cars

With You I Could Run Forever by Graham Gouldman <\- (Anyone else remember that 1980 animated film _Animalympics_? The soundtrack was my jam as a kid.)

Faith by George Michael 

Dancing With Charlie by Chris Rea 

Hello Goodbye by The Beatles

Girlfriend In A Coma by The Smiths

Heroes by David Bowie

 

Keep on Writin’ and Rockin’


	3. Mr. Roboto

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What do Autobots and social media addicts have in common? Dead zones are best/worst things to ever happen to them. You’ll see why. ;)

**Q-A:** Here we are the official chapter 2 of Riding A Sunset! Oh, man I am so nervicited*! I’m so pumped about Charlie meeting the Autobots but I hope that I’ll be doing their characters justice. Granted Bumblebee is supposed to be set in a universe on its own anyway but I know how fans are a tad touchy on how their favorite characters should act (which as a fangirl I can relate). So, I hope that the interpretations I spin here won’t rub people off and I wish to remind everyone that if a ‘bot or human acts a way they don’t like at the beginning I promise they’ll go through some character development and change. But if you don’t like what I’m doing anyway well you’re free to just leave whenever you want. And I’m not trying to be mean here if it came off that way to some of you I do apologize.

**_Disclaimer:_** I do not own  _The Transformers._ It solely belongs to  _Hasbro_ and  _Paramount_. The songs referenced in this chapter belong to their respected producers/singers.

**Warnings** for this chapter are:

swearing, mentions of war,

violence, and genocide ahead.

 

“You're wondering who I am  
(Secret, secret, I've got a secret)  
Machine or mannequin”

 “Mr. Roboto” by Styx

* * *

 

Location: Golden Gate Bridge, CA. Date: June 5, 1988

 

It was still early morning by the time Bumblebee drove Charlie over the San Francisco Bay. There were more cars out many of which headed towards the city the Camero was driving away from. On their side of the bridge they were alone, all except for one car. A car that Charlie recognized as a black and white _IMSA GT Porsche 935_ and for whatever reason it had been following them since they left Brighton.

 

“’Bee,” Charlie looked into the rearview mirror to check if the Porsche was still behind them. Yes it was. “Tell me I’m not crazy but I think that Porsche is tailing us.”

 

Bumblebee surfed through some stations until he found the words he was looking for. _“Don’t worry about a thing. ‘cause every little thing is gonna be alright.”_

 

Charlie breathed out a sigh. “Good. I was hoping a Decepticon wasn’t stalking us. So, I’m guessing that car is like you and is one of your friends?”

 

‘Bee answered with, “ _Friends will be friends.”_

 

As the song faded the Porsche drove up and cruised along side them. Once it got close enough Charlie quickly realized that the car had no human passengers and more importantly no driver.

 

“Hiya! Finally nice to meet ya, Charlie Watson,” the Porsche spoke in a smooth, upbeat voice.

 

Charlie could not help but yelp in alarm and nearly swerved off the road. She did not see that coming.

 

“Lil ‘Bee did you not tell your Lady-friend that I. Could. Talk?” The Porsche asked in a hurt tone.

 

“[Zitt]-I was getting there- _eventually_.” ‘Bee responded nervously.

 

“You could’ve at least gave me a warning before I shocked this girl with my sparkling personality and pipes to match.” The Porsche huffed indignantly though to Charlie it sounded like he (she’s assuming it’s a he) was more amused than annoyed.

 

“Um, excuse me but who are you?” Charlie interrupted. 

 

“Sorry, where are my manners? I’m J-722. Friends call me J’ for short. I guess you could call me the mech that tells this ‘bot,” the Porsche opened his passenger door to gesture to Bumblebee, “here where to go when our boss ain’t around to do it for me.”

 

Charlie swallowed as she let that sink in. “Okay um, J-722 I guess you already know who I am so I’ll just say it’s nice to meet you?” she finished lamely. God, this was her first time speaking to a presumably robotic car that could actually talk back and she was acting like a complete dork.

 

J-722 seemed to pick up on Charlie’s unease and chuckled, “Now didn’t I just say that friends can call me J’? If you’re a friend of Bumblebee that makes you a friend of mine! Now ‘Bee’s been telling me all about ya and he said that you’re a music lover, am I right?”

 

Charlie felt her confidence returning now that they were on a topic she was very familiar with. “Yeah, I am.”

 

“You got any good recommendations? I have this radio that I would looooove to try out but there’s so many stations to choose from.”

 

“It’s not always about the stations. It’s about the songs they play,” Charlie answered as the words came naturally to her. “And which song speaks to you. Songs have a way to say how you feel.”

 

“Right now I’m feelin’ something slow but not like melancholy, ya know?” J’ answered. 

 

Charlie pursed her lips while she was thinking. ‘Bee made a curious buzz noise while he waited with J’. “Try looking for songs by Sam Cooke or Duke Ellington. They sound like they’d be your style.”

 

J’ went through several stations until he found one with the song _In A Sentimental Mood._ After the first saxophone riff J’ revved up his engines. “Oooooh, I am lovin’ this sound. What do you call it, Lil’ Lady?”

 

“Jazz.”

 

“Jazz? Jaaazzzzz. Oooh, I like that.” J’ revved his engine once more. “I think it’s growing on me.” He then slowed down until he was behind Bumblebee again. Charlie turned her head around to watch. “Don’t cha worry about a thing. I’ll be keeping you covered until we’re back at the base.” Charlie could still hear the Duke’s sax in the distance.

 

“He seems nice,” Charlie said after a minute before admitting, “He’s pretty cool actually.”

 

‘Bee chirped happily in response. His trilling ceased after Charlie’s stomach started to growl.

 

“Oh,” Charlie smiled sheepishly. “It was still a bit early to have breakfast at home but I guess I should’ve had some anyway.” She leaned over to the passenger’s seat and pulled the brown paper bag lunch her mom made. Inside the bag were two PB&J sandwiches made with smooth peanut butter and grape jelly. Charlie couldn’t help but grimace a bit.

 

“ _What’s_ - **wrong**?” Charlie turned her head around the car and wondered if Bumblebee had eyes hidden somewhere.

 

“How are you doing that?”

 

“Seeing- _you_?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“I-have-[ziit]-scent- **soars** -that-give-me-sight beyond sight!”

 

“Okay, so you can see in the car even without your eyes because of your sensors?”

 

“Yes,” ‘Bee buzzed. “ _Soooo_ - _why_ -were-you- **up** -set-earlier?”

 

“Oh, just that I didn’t like the jam my mom put in the sandwiches she made for me. I prefer strawberry jelly with my pb&j instead of grape.”

 

“Huuuuuuh?” ‘Bee responded.

 

“Oh, right you don’t know what-okay, a sandwich is two slices of bread with other food like meat, vegetables or peanut butter and jelly in my case. Humans eat sandwiches to restore our energy. But we can eat other things made from meat, veggies, and fruit. And fish. I’m pretty sure I’m the only person in my family that likes to eat sushi.” Charlie said jokingly.  

 

‘Bee buzzed thoughtfully. “Well, I’ll say that reminds me of-Ener-gon.”

 

“What’s energon?”

 

Bumblebee went on to explain, as best as he was capable of, to Charlie what Energon was. It turned out Bumblebee and his race didn’t have a large variety of nutrients to choose from. All of their versions of proteins, carbohydrates, and fats came from one food source: Energon. Charlie learned that Energon wasn’t just fuel to them it was also their blood and their planet’s power source. Charlie apologized about offering Bumblebee a _Pop Tart_ one time, unaware that it was impossible for him to consume it.

 

“[Ziit]-It’s okay-I-didn’t-remember- _what_ -I-could-EAT!-back-then.”

 

A half-hour passed and the highway grew smaller and the trees became taller and wider. Charlie noticed signs for the redwood forest and realized they were near the same place she and ‘Bee saw that message from the bigger red robot. Charlie wanted to ask why they were going that direction but was cut off when ‘Bee made a sharp turn into Muir Woods. Instead of driving through the main road to the public entrance ‘Bee and J’ took a left and headed down a makeshift road meant for park ranger use only. The further they went, the songs on the radio were replaced with static. As they drove deeper Charlie was about to voice her concerns again when the two cars stopped inside a clearing.

 

The clearing was broad and the ground covered with dead pine needles and moss. There was one other opening on the other side that led to another unpaved road. Bumblebee drove into the middle of the clearing while J’ stayed ten feet behind them. ‘Bee then switched his radio’s dials until it let out the same white noise Charlie remembered hearing back when she started the engine in ‘Bee’s car form the first time she found him. The sound turned into a small beeping that Charlie also recalled listening to that same day. The beeps were followed by another set of beeps and Charlie turned around and realized that J’ was emitting them too. A minute passed until Charlie heard a new sound. Distant rumbling. In the other opening a long caravan of cars entered.

 

A dark blue _Freightliner FLC112_ with red and white highlights led six other distinct cars. The first car behind it was a bright pink _Honda Integra_ _D4_ , a red _Dodge Caravan_ , a red highlighted white _Lancia Stratos Turbo_ racing car, a yellow/green _Land Rover Series III 4x4_ , and a red/white ambulance. Charlie was glad her years of reading car magazines paid off, although she was positive that she didn’t expect to use the collective information for what she was going through. The six cars drove around ‘Bee until they formed a circle along with J’.

 

“’Bee,” Charlie held onto the steering wheel. “I know this is a dumb question but I want to be sure that these cars are all your friends just like J' is. Right?”

 

‘Bee did not use anything from the radio to respond for some reason but instead made a few levelheaded sounding buzzes and chirps. Charlie guessed that meant yes.

 

One more vehicle drove behind the EMS hospital wagon. It was another Freightliner but it was a _FL86_ cab over semi truck. Unlike the blue one the primary color on the FL86 was red with blue highlights. It was also the biggest out of the others. The ambulance and Land Rover reversed in order for the FL86 to enter the circle and to be in the center.

 

Bumblebee opened the driver’s side door open.

 

“You want me to…” Charlie motioned for outside and ‘Bee chirped in response. Charlie removed her seatbelt and stepped out of the car. ‘Bee closed the door a second later.

 

The red truck drove forward by a few feet until it was in front of Charlie. She heard a deep masculine voice come out from it asking, “Charlie Watson, I presume?”

 

Charlie was still not used to hearing cars capable of speech, especially one with a baritone that low. Still the FL86 didn’t sound like he was trying to be threatening. It dawned on to her that she not only recognized the truck but she had heard that voice before. The voice belonged to the giant hologram of the big robot and he must’ve been the same FL86 truck ‘Bee drove next to on the Golden Gate bridge. Except for some reason there was no trailer behind him. “Yeah, th-that’s me,” she finally answered and inwardly cursed from the stutter.

 

The truck didn’t seem to mind and instead focused his attention towards J’ after he turned his front wheels to angle himself to look at the Porsche more directly. “J-722, are you certain you and Bumblebee weren’t followed?”

 

“Negative.” J’ answered, “No signs of Decepticons or other hostiles. The whole drive here was as smooth as lubricant.”

 

“Very well.” The FL86 realigned his wheels. “Charlie Watson,” his voice boomed before becoming gentle. “Don’t be alarmed by what you’re about to witness…

 

“Autobots, transform!”  

 

TSCHE-chu-chu-chu-TSCHE!**

 

“Oh, my God.” Charlie was used to seeing Bumblebee turn into his robot form but what she was witnessing right now was a whole other level.

 

All the cars, trucks, and vans pulled and stretched until they started to stand on two legs each. Their painted plates shifted into armor and helmets on most of their heads while their wheels popped onto their backs and feet. Their sides grew arms that reached their waists. They were all various heights taller than ‘Bee’s twelve feet but none was high as the FL86. His front grill and windshield became his chest. On his boxy shoulders were the two exhaust stacks and on the front were white symbols that matched the same weird face on ‘Bee’s car horn. (Charlie would later see that every robot had the symbol on them on some singular spot) All eight rear tires were behind the robot’s blue legs. The only other blue on him were his hands and the helmet on his head, which reminded Charlie of a samurai helmet from those old Japanese movies Otis and Memo liked to watch.

 

The red truck kneeled until his face with eyelevel with Charlie. She could see more details with him closer such as the fin-like antennae over the helmet, the facemask that seemed to cover his mouth and his electric blue eyes that were triangular in shape contrasting Bumblebee’s round ones.

 

“Charlie Watson,” his faceplate moved up and down while he talked. “I am Optimus Prime,” he nodded at the other robots and added, “and we are all part of the Autobot Resistance from the planet Cybertron.” Optimus straightened himself up again and pointed at the robot where the blue semi once parked. “My Second-In-Command, Ultra Magnus.”

 

The smaller Freightliner-turned robot resembled a shorter version of Optimus Prime with the same body design and helmet. The major differences though, aside from the height, was that Ultra Magnus’ coloring reminded Charlie of the American flag and he had the tallest shoulder pads out of all of the robots.

 

Ultra Magnus stood at attention and saluted at Charlie. “It is an honor to formally make your acquaintance.”

 

Charlie waved back, not sure how else to reply.

 

“Layin’ on there a little thick, eh Magnus,” the pure red robot muttered. “It ain’t like the human is royalty.”

 

The pink robot to his right slapped his shoulder. “Stop it ‘Hide,” her feminine voice harshly whispered, “We promised Bumblebee we’d be nice.”

 

“This _is_ me bein’ nice.”

 

Ultra Magnus glared at the red and pink robots. “The two of you are acting out of line-”

 

“Ahem.” Optimus gazed at the three bickering robots and crossed his arms. Charlie couldn’t see his face but she betted that it was a look of disproval.

 

“Sorry Optimus Prime,” all three of them said while Ultra Magnus added a “sir” at the end. They all appeared very ashamed of themselves.

 

Charlie snorted but covered it with a cough as Optimus Prime turned around.

 

“Since they so _kindly_ volunteered to speak, I shall introduce them next. Our Security Lieutenant in addition Weapons Specialist, Ironhide and Arcee our Communications Expert respectfully.”

 

Ironhide was nearly red all over save his waist and legs, which were the same metallic silver on the other Autobots. However his square shoulders were a darker shade of gray. His entire chest was the van’s windshield and occasionally the wipers moved to push a leaf off. “Sorry, ‘bout talkin’ earlier,” Ironhide said. “My glossa has a nasty habit of runnin’ off.”

 

“I believe you should apologize to me as well,” Ultra Magnus pointed out.

 

Ironhide huffed and crossed his arms. “I never apologize more than once. Not since back during the Battle of Praxus when I-” Arcee stood in front of Ironhide, interrupting him, “How about we get back to introducing ourselves? My name’s Arcee.” She pointed to her pink chest. “My military rank is Captain and I’m in charged with keeping communication between forces in battle.” Then she gestured to her _Princess Leia_ -styled helmet. Right as she said ‘keeping communication’ a small metal antenna rose up.

 

“Cool,” Charlie said, impressed. A smile formed on Arcee’s metal lips.

 

Ironhide took a step forward. “You know I have these really cool cannons-” J’ pushed him back. “Yeah, yeah we ain’t got all day. More of us ‘bots have stuff we want to say.”

 

Optimus nodded towards the Porsche. “You are already familiar with J-722. Sergeant of our Spec Ops.”

 

J’ was around the same height as Ironhide but that was as far as their similarities went. His chest was the blue and red hood, including headlights and grill. His helmet, shoulders, hands, and shins were black while the rest of his body was white. “Oh, Optimus I have one thing I need you to revise.”

 

“What’s that, J-722?”

 

“I decided to change my designation.”

 

The rest of the Autobots, save for Optimus Prime and Ultra Magnus, groaned.

 

“What’s up?” J’ frowned. Behind his blue visor Charlie could see him narrow his eyes.

 

“You’ve been through a dozen new designations,” Ironhide complained. “First it was Meister.”

 

“Then Shaft,” Arcee added dryly.

 

“For a while you called yourself Blaster but had to change that too when you found out there’s already a ‘bot with that name. And then you went back to your old mech-made designation,” the small green and orange Autobot finished.

 

J’ waved them off. “Alright, alright, but this time for sure I found the right name. In honor of arriving on this planet I’ve chosen a name to reflect a genre of music I found here.”

 

“Is it Jazz?” Charlie asked in amusement.

 

“What gave me away?” The newly named Jazz inquired with a fascinated brow.

 

“Because that’s all you listened to while we drove up here,” Charlie replied with a smirk.

 

A moment passed and the Porsche laughed uproariously. “Mech, Lil ‘Bee you sure know how to pick ‘em.”

 

Bumblebee made himself small by hunching his shoulders. Charlie felt her cheeks get a little pink.

 

“Very well. You shall be now known as Jazz,” Optimus Prime declared.

 

Jazz beamed.

 

“Let’s hope it sticks this time,” Optimus Prime added, which led to everyone but Ultra Magnus to laugh. Even Jazz chuckled after a second passed. Optimus raised his arm for silence. “We have with us our Field Medic, Ratchet.”

 

The robotic medical officer was almost pure white except for his lower waist, hands, and the v-shaped crest over his helmet. On both of his shoulders were symbols of the Red Cross, the same ones Charlie has seen on the ambulances and hospital her mom worked at.

 

Ratchet said nothing for a minute and just stared at Charlie. She was beginning to feel uncomfortable when he asked, “When was the last cycle you consumed, Ms. Watson?”

 

“I’m sorry what?”

 

Ratchet inhaled through his nose and exhaled. “My scanners indicate that you haven’t consumed any substance in nine Earth-hours. And for a human that’s a long time to go without provisions.”

 

“Oh, I’m not hungry.”

 

Bumblebee buzzed in disproval at Charlie’s obvious lie and rolled his eyes at her. “Fine I’ll eat a sandwich later. Are you happy now?”

 

“Yes.” The Autobots’ medic answered. ‘Bee went as far as to pull out the brown paper bag and water bottle from God-knows-where and handed them to Charlie. Neither robot stopped staring at her until she started to halfheartedly nibble at the bread.

 

 _I can’t believe a Doc-bot and my old car are mothering me,_ Charlie thought in wonder.

 

“Next we have our engineer, Wheeljack.” Between Ironhide and the Land Rover was the strangest looking robot Charlie had seen so far. Wheeljack had the Lancia Stratos’ Italian red and green on his hood and feet. The rest of his body was silver, including the two wing-like appendages on his back. His face stood out from the others because it appeared that he had a mouth that was made out of three metal slabs. He also had two fiberglass fins on the sides of his head. Attached to his right shoulder was a missile launcher of some sort.

 

“Hiya,” Wheeljack greeted. “Nice ta meet somebody else who’s good with a wrench.” Every time he spoke a word the fins glowed and faceplate slid open and closed like a mouth.

 

“Excuse me?” Ratchet said accusingly.

 

Wheeljack chuckled sheepishly. “Well, _somebody_ who I hope **won’t** throw their wrenches at me when they get angry.” 

 

Ratchet grumbled something about showing Wheeljack his wrench collection later but became to indistinguishable for Charlie to hear the rest.

 

Optimus Prime seemed to just be ignoring all the interruptions by that point and presented the small orange and green robot. “This is Brawn, our demolition expert.”

 

The Land Rover had dark green shoulders and legs. His chest was bright orange while his arms and head were silver. He crossed his arms and nodded approvingly at Charlie. “Glad to finally meet the human that saved our ‘Bee’s life.”

 

Charlie almost chocked on her sandwich. She realized that all eyes were on her after what Brawn had said. “Oh, I um…”

 

“And last but not least, our Private, First Class promoted to Calvary Scout who you’ve affectionately re-designated as Bumblebee.”

 

‘Bee kneeled down to Charlie’s eye level and held out his hand to her. Charlie put her sandwich away and then grasped one of his fingers and gave it a light squeeze. “It’s very nice to meet you,” Charlie teased while giving his index finger a shake. Bee buzzed once more and shook her hand back.

 

Charlie and ‘Bee couldn’t keep their straight faces and laughed. Charlie sobered up quickly and whispered to the yellow ‘bot. “’Bee why didn’t you just tell me you were taking me to meet your friends. I could’ve worn something nicer,” she started to look self-consciously at her clothing.

 

‘Bee said nothing but patted her head while giving her a kind expression. In his eyes Charlie could practically hear him say it did not matter to him how she looked.

 

Charlie felt herself blush again but tried to play it cool. “Well, if you say so.” She changed the subject when she remembered a question she asked hours ago. “So, why did you bring me here? And you better not say ‘secret’ again.”

 

“I believe we can answer that,” Optimus Prime responded. Charlie became aware that she wasn’t alone with ‘Bee and flushed with embarrassment this time. Thankfully none of the Autobots seemed to notice. Except for Jazz, he covered his mouth but Charlie could hear his chuckles.

 

Jerk.

 

 “Over nine million years ago our home planet of Cybertron was divided into a great civil war. My fellow Autobots and I fight against the Decepticons who wish to restore Cybertron into a mighty empire expanding across countless worlds. They desire to take over every planet, cyberform them until they are metallic like our home world.”

 

“What if they are people already living there?” Charlie spoke with concern.

 

Optimus Prime looked to the ground, his eyes appeared sad. “They could either enslave the populace or kill them if they resist. We Autobots however wish to coexist with all sentient life and believe everyone is entitled for the right to be free. That is one of the primary reasons we are at war and have stayed at war on our planet. Until two Earth-years ago that is. The numbers of the Decepticons have grown immensely by then and they now outnumber us three to one. I made the call for the Autobots to evacuate from Cybertron and find sanctuary on a hidden planet. I sent Bumblebee ahead of our forces to set base for us on that planet. The planet in question is the one we are on now: Earth.”

 

Charlie sighed heavily; she tried to wrap her head around all this new information. “So, you guys came here because you needed a place to hide from the Decepticons? And that’s why ‘Bee came here.”

 

Optimus Prime nodded. “That’s correct. I came to him ten Earth-months right before the rest of the ‘bots you see before you landed on Earth.”

 

“I remember seeing you,” Charlie revealed. The Autobots stared at her in surprise. “On the Golden Gate Bridge after Bumblebee turned into a Camaro I saw him drive next to you. You had a gray trailer attached to your fifth wheel,” she quickly elaborated.

 

Optimus Prime’s eyes widened. Charlie didn’t know if he was mad or not since that darn mask covered ninety percent of his face. “You have an excellent memory and an observant optic,” he complimented after a minute passed.

 

“That’s eye, Optimus,” Ratchet corrected. “Humans visual organs are called eyes.”

 

“Oh,” Optimus Prime appeared stunned for a moment. “I apologize,” he said after he placed his attention on Charlie. “I’m still not completely familiar with your planet’s terminology.”

 

Charlie was bewildered at the very tall robot bending his head to her. Cleared her throat and nodded. “It’s okay. Really. You don’t have to bow.”

 

“I’m obligated to do so,” Optimus Prime insisted, though he did stop kneeling. “You are the same human that showed compassion to my young scout and risked your life to save your planet.”

 

Ultra Magus smiled broadly and bowed too. “We owe you a great deal of thanks for your bravery and kindness. None of us would be here if you hadn’t aided Bumblebee on his mission.”

 

Charlie smiled but it didn’t reach her eyes and inside her heart she felt like a total liar. “’Bee did all the fighting. All I did was just pull a battery out from a transmitter the Decepticons modified to call for reinforcements.”

 

“What you did was very brave,” Arcee affirmed. “Not all acts of courage involve fighting an enemy on the battlefield.” A few Autobots nodded and spoke similar words in agreement.

 

Every kind declaration the Autobots said punctured a wound in Charlie. She was no hero. She was a coward.

 

Optimus resumed the story where he left off. “Right after all of us regrouped we became aware of the dependence Bumblebee had on his Earth radio. He gave us a recount of the first groon (“hour in Cybertronian,” Ratchet clarified helpfully) of his arrival to Earth. From his dangerous encounter with the government group known as ‘Sector 7’ to the unfortunate advent of the Triple-changer Blitzwing. The fight ended in Bumblebee’s favor but at a price.

 

“Not only were Bumblebee’s memory cells burnt but his vocal processor was forcibly extracted by Blitzwing, rendering him mute.”

 

Charlie covered her mouth. Beyond dismayed from what she heard. The mechanic stared at Bumblebee; her eyes began to tear up. “That’s why you can’t speak. This whole time, I never thought,” she trailed off because she didn’t want to finish the rest of the sentence. ‘Bee placed a hand on her shoulder and squeezed it very gently.

 

Charlie looked pleadingly at the Autobots. “Is there something that you can do to help him?”

 

Ratchet cleared his throat and smiled knowingly. “As a matter of fact there is. Ten Earth days ago, Bumblebee led Brawn and me to the location of where the vocal processor was taken out.” The Field Medic opened a rectangular metal crate that appeared the hell out of nowhere and withdrew a small object wrapped in cloth. Ratchet spared Charlie a glance as he unwrapped the small item. “You can quit gawking. What you saw was my medical kit appearing out of my Subspace storage pocket. A small amount of Energon takes it in and out of the material world at will. Anyway, Bumblebee told us where his damaged vocalizer was located. Brawn collected it and I had examined and fixed that damages that Blitzwing had done to it. All that’s left to do is reattach this to ‘Bee’s vocal circuits and his voice should return to normal.”

 

‘Bee chirped to Charlie with his hands in the air.

 

Charlie gasped in disbelief. “That was the secret? You brought me here so I can see you get your voice back.”

 

‘Bee nodded.

 

A thought came to Charlie and she realized, “That’s what you said to my mom. To convince her to let me come with you.”

 

The scout nodded his head once more. Charlie noticed he was refusing to ‘speak’ like he normally did. “Why aren’t you using your radio right now? Actually now that I think about it you haven’t since we got here.”

 

“That’s because he can’t,” Wheeljack explained. He motioned to the redwoods. “This forest’s foliage is so dense that we can’t get any distant signals here. Radar included. We’re pretty much walkin’ around here blind as bolt-bats.”

 

“Then why pick your base here?”

 

Ironhide answered for Wheeljack. “Because if we can’t see that means no Decepticreeps can either if they do eventually show up. As long as we stay hidden in the trees they can’t find us.”

 

“Yeah except there’s one problem,” Charlie said. “This forest you guys are in is a public park. That means a lot of humans come here and they can spot you.”

 

“Indeed,” Optimus Prime admitted. “We know we must determine a proper base devoid of human exposure. It has been our top priority.”

 

Brawn added, “Even Bumblebee insisted that setting up a base was more important than finding his vocal processor until two Earth-weeks ago.”

 

Ironhide projected a hologram of the planet. He pointed at the North American continent’s western costline. “So’ right now we’ve been trottin’ around tryin’ ta find a permanent base. Currently our base is over the hill and through the woods we jus’ drove across. But it’s like you and Optimus said, Charlie. We can’t stay here forever. We’ll have ta be on the move again after ‘Bee gets his voice box fixed and night falls over this place.”

 

Charlie’s heart stopped. “You’re leaving again?”

 

Bumblebee’s eyes dimmed and he let out a low buzz. He opened his arms and she ran into them. She felt like she embraced ‘Bee harder than the last time they had to say goodbye. The mechanic wiped her tears away and then looked straight to Optimus Prime. “Can I-can I at least stay with you until you have to go?”

 

“You are more than free to stay with us during the remainder of our duration here if that is what you wish,” Optimus Prime answered. He placed a hand over Bumblebee’s shoulder. The Autobot leader and scout shared a look of understanding.

 

“Charlie,” Jazz spoke comfortingly. “Lil ‘Bee and I will personally escort you back to your creators by nightfall. You have my word.”

 

“Bumblebee,” Ratchet approached the yellow scout. ‘Bee and Charlie removed themselves from their hug and he gave the medic his full attention. “Are you ready to get your voice back?”

* * *

 

“Quit squirming. I know this is ticklish but you need to hold still.” Ratchet pressed a servo over Bumblebee’s chassis while his other one held a small laser knife in place. On that same arm a panel was open, which revealed a dataport and diagnostic cables connected to the yellow Camaro’s neck cables. Next to them was Wheeljack assisting the medic by reading aloud Bumblebee’s systems and recent health evaluation.

 

Bumblebee beeped in response.

 

“Well, of course my servos are cold.” Ratchet rolled his optics before adding, “I had to wash them in the river nearby before I started the surgery.” When ‘Bee jerked again the medic pressed his servo more firmly. “If you keep moving there’s a chance I might cut something vital and you’ll be in worse condition than before.”

 

The yellow scout buzzed in understanding and kept his spinal strut erect. While Ratchet and Wheeljack resumed the operation the other six ‘bots and one human stood to the side. After Bumblebee accepted Ratchet’s offer earlier the Autobots and Charlie headed further into the woods where the temp-base was located. The clearing was smaller than the one they were in before with only enough room for the makeshift berths for recharging and a few metallic crates that the others were successful in bringing after the evacuation from Cybertron. Unfortunately the crates made the area feel even more crowded. But they had to keep most if not all of their supplies packed in case they had to relocate again. Which of course happened almost daily now. ‘Bee hoped that Jazz would find a permanent base soon. The scout then deleted that thought from his processor. He shouldn’t even think about that. The last thing he wanted to think was about having to leave his friend for a second time. He could still see the crushed look on Charlie replay through his memory file. Bumblebee terminated more of the negative code from his core. He needed to focus on the present no matter how bittersweet the future might be. He was about to get his voice fixed after all. And the bots that he viewed as close friends were present to witness the event along with the first friend he made on Earth.

 

A few feet behind the yellow ‘bot Charlie sat on tree stump nearby Jazz. ‘Bee didn’t need to use his EM field to sense that the human was growing lethargic from boredom. Though he couldn’t use it anyway since humans were an organic species.

* * *

 

“How long do you think the procedure will last?” Charlie whispered to Jazz after she tapped his pede to get his attention.

 

Jazz pursed his dermas in thought. “Hmm, don’t know.” He shrugged his shoulders, “The serious ones usually take a while.”

 

“How long has it been since it started?”

 

“’bout five breems. Oh right, ” he continued after Charlie gave him a blank look. “That’s 41 and a half minutes in Earth time. Sorry, I still need to reset my chronometer.” He patted his right arm and a hologram of a digital clock written in Cybertronian appeared. The Spec Ops tried to fix it then but remembered that the poor reception in the forest made it unable to update.

 

“Apparently,” Charlie said, letting out her sass at long last. She drank the rest of her water and then winced slightly.  

 

“Hey Jazz, do you know where the nearest outhouse is?”

 

Jazz gave her a confused look. “But aren’t we already out? Don’t you mean you wanna be in a house?”

 

“No, no I mean-look I just need to-I just need like ten minutes by myself and I’ll come back.” She got up from the stump and walked away. Jazz followed close behind. “Are ya sure you don’t need me to go with you?”

 

For some reason beyond the Autobot’s understanding Charlie became defensive. “No,” she said firmly. “Please don’t follow me. I’m just going down the road back to the main entrance and I’m sure there’s like a public restroom there for me to use.”

 

Well, that made even less sense than before. Why did the human need to go someplace else to rest? Jazz decided however not to press the issue further as he could tell from Charlie’s tone that she was unhappy and the last thing he wanted was to make her angry. ‘Bee would not be happy with that. And an unhappy ‘Bee means that Prime would be unhappy and then everyone would be unhappy. Except Ratchet, he was never happy.

 

“Alrigh’, just remember to make it back here soon so you can hear Lil ‘Bee’s voice.”

 

Charlie smiled, grateful. “Thanks Jazz.” With her brown pouch and plastic container in her organic servo the human jogged down the pathway.

 

Brawn stepped next to Jazz and asked, “You sure that was a good idea to let her go alone?”

 

Jazz dismissed Brawn’s worry. “I can already tell that girl can handle herself. And besides ya’ll saw how agitated she looked back then. If she needs some space we should respect dat.”

 

“I concur,” Ultra Magnus interjected. “According to Ratchet’s datapad on human anatomy humans regularly-”

 

“Hey guys!” Wheeljack exclaimed, which drowned out what the SIC was going to say. The team’s scientist grinned through his metal slabs. “Get over here. The operation is done.” The three ‘bots exchanged looks for a second before first two eagerly headed on over. Ultra Magus followed in a more dignified approach. All of the youngest Autobots encircled the makeshift berth while Ratchet tried to push them back. “Give the mech some air you lugnuts,” the medic commanded. The crowd parted for Prime and he kneeled before the scout. Wheeljack propped Bumblebee up and he was able to sit on his own.

 

“How are you feeling, Bumblebee?” The leader of the Autobots placed a servo on ‘Bee’s shoulder.

 

‘Bee glanced around and stared directly behind Prime’s shoulder. He tried to speak but it came out as a wheeze.

 

Ratchet and Wheeljack both attended to the Calvary scout. “Easy there, don’t force it out. Yer joints are still soldering,” the scientist advised. “Vent okay? C’mon, I know you can ex-vent with me ‘Bee.”

 

Bumblebee moved his mouth guard and a mixture of static and a strangled voice was heard.

 

Ratchet placed a servo on Bumblebee’s back plate. “Vent~” he stressed out. “Don’t try to belt out the glyph. Coax it out gently.”

 

‘Bee ex-vented and placed a servo over his throat cables. “Ch…” he willed his voice processor. “Char-char.”

 

“He’s trying to say something,” Arcee said excitedly.

 

“Char…” Bumblebee ex-vented in near defeat but his optic narrowed in determination.

 

“Char… lie.” He and the rest of the Autobots’ optics widened in amazement. “Charlie. Charlie!”

 

“It’s back!” Ironhide cheered. “The youngin’ got his pipes back!”

 

Arcee gave ‘Bee a hug. “I knew you’d get your voice back,” she shouted joyfully.

 

“Well done, Ratchet.” Prime had removed his servo and placed it on the ‘bot he was speaking to. “You made good today, old friend.”

 

“Ratchet,” Bumblebee said, his optics glistening from cleanser. “Thank you so much. You too Wheeljack.”

 

The scientist chuckled. “Ratch’ did all da real work.”

 

“Too bad we ain’t got any hi-grade to celebrate with,” Jazz vented sadly. Ironhide gave him a withering look. “Do ya have ta remind me?”

 

“Where’s Charlie?” Bumblebee asked. He glanced around and Jazz realized that was why the young ‘bot was looking around earlier. “I don’t see her.”

 

“Ah, yeah ‘bout that,” Jazz began to say.

* * *

 

Charlie sighed in relief as she left the public restroom. She felt so much better after… relieving herself. God, she felt awkward trying to explain to Jazz why she needed to leave the camp. She was not looking forward to having to explain to nine robots why humans need to be alone a couple times a day. Ratchet seemed to understand human biology a little bit though. He might be able to help her later.

 

The mechanic was about to head back to the path when she heard a wolf howl. Charlie had a few seconds to wonder where that sound come from when everything turned black.

 

**To Be Continued**

* * *

 

 **Q-A:** Oooooh, you all must hate me now huh? The first cliffhanger of the story, isn’t this exciting? Bumblebee also said his first word and it was Charlie, aww. Too bad she wasn't there to hear it. Aren't I evil? So, any complaints or concerns on how I portrayed Optimus, Ironhide, Arcee, Wheeljack, Ratchet, Brawn, and Ultra Magnus? Like I said at the top AN these characters personalities will change slightly as the story develops if you aren't happy with the way they are acting right now. ‘Bee’s got his voice back too, are you all happy with that or did you wish he kept the radio speech a bit longer? Personally I LOVED his voice in the film and I’m glad to ‘use’ it here in the story at long last. XD So I’m a bit sorry if this chapter came out later than the last two but it’s my longest one yet so that should make up for it. Right? Honestly I think the reason it has the most words is because my OCD mind kept telling me to describe every single Autobot. And now I remembered the large cast list for my story.

Pray for me. Pray.

References:

*That ‘word’ comes from _My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic_. You know ten years ago you’d have trouble convincing me that MLP would become insanely popular as TF and just as badass.  

Duke Ellington wrote the song _In A Sentimental Mood_. It’s considered by many to be a staple of Jazz music. I thought about using a song by Scatman Crothers (the original voice of Jazz) but I felt that would be too on the nose. By the way did anyone else know he was also the voice for Scat Cat from _The Aristocats_? That’s the third time I heard a Transformers VA was involved with Disney. XD

“Sight beyond sight” is directly from _Thundercats_.

**I swear on TFwiki.com that IS the canonical spelling of the iconic transformation sound. And I personally love that it has an official spelling. :D

Meister is Jazz’s name in Japan.

Do I need to explain who or what  _Shaft_ is?

Blaster IS the name of another Autobot.

 

Songs Used:

Chapter title: Mr. Roboto by Styx (Obvious song choice in TF fanfic is obvious.). 

Three Little Birds by Bob Marley and the Wailers. 

Friends Will Be Friends by Queen.

 

Keep on Writin’ and Rockin’

 


	4. Blue Monday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alternate title for chapter: Starscream and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day.

**Q-A:** Bad news, Charlie is still technically kidnapped. Good news, uhhh, can’t think of any right now. I’ll try to later. So, the Oscars are upon us. (If you read this after it ended well, I hope the films/actors you wanted to win did) So, if there was such a way for a new nomination to be added mine would be “Biggest Surprise” meaning a film that no one thought would be good but was. Guess what my choice is, _BumbleBee_. I bet a lot of you think _Black Panther_ or _Spider-verse_ would make more sense but c’mon we all knew those films would be good in some sort of way, even if the stories wouldn’t be great (thank goodess they were though). But who seriously thought Bumblebee would work after sitting through four sequels that just made a lot of give up on TF? BumbleBee was a huge surprise for me. Are there any films from 2018 that surprised you?

**_Disclaimer:_** I do not own  _The Transformers._ It solely belongs to  _Hasbro_ and  _Paramount_. The song referenced in this chapter belongs to its respected producers/singers.

 

 **Warnings** for this chapter are:

Mentions of war, bombings, death, xenophobia/racism, and physical abuse.

 

“How does it feel  
To treat me like you do?  
When you've laid your hands upon me  
And told me who you are?”

 

\- “Blue Monday” by New Order

* * *

 

 

Location: Cybertron, Kaon [Kolkular]. Date: One Stellar Cycle* passed Fall of Cybertron

 

The meeting was not concluding the way Starscream hoped it would. The Commander of the Decepticon Air fleet desired to have his previous misstep during the Battle of Iacon to have been overlooked, but that was not the case. Shockwave, the little glitch, was the one who brought it up while the two of them and Soundwave congregated at Megatron’s castle. Why their lord thought meeting there was such a good idea was beyond Starscream’s apprehension. Half of it was under construction while the other half was still damaged from the bombing that was inflicted during the aforementioned fight with the Autobot scum. Megatron blamed the terrorist attack for delaying his arrival to Iacon and _finally_ terminate the Autobots’ leader. Starscream complained that the attack prevented his trine from refueling on their way to the fallen capital.

 

“You claim that to be your excuse for failing at the one job that I gave you and your Seekers to do,” Shockwave accused, his single yellow optic trained on Starscream’s crimson ones.

 

Starscream ex-vented with irritation. “I blew up the launch pad like you asked, didn’t I?”

 

“Soundwave observation: Seekers led by Starscream flew below average speed,” the Decepticon’s intelligence officer outputted.

 

“I told you already that my Tetrajets and I couldn’t fly at full capacity because we had to go all the way from here to northern Cybertron. We were practically running on fumes when we arrived.”

 

“A poor jusification if I ever heard one,” Shockwave said dismissively.

 

“You two cannot seriously be accusing me of sabotage when I was there along side you fighting Prime.”

 

“Autobot leader still escaped,” Soundwave observed monotonously.

 

Starscream sneered, “Well maybe if you had done something useful instead of just sending your mini-cons to do your grunt work for you we could’ve had the Prime’s helm on a pike now.”

 

“ENOUGH!” The high volume of Megatron’s vocalizer made the room tremble and silenced the bickering robots. The Deceptions’ leader got off from his repaired throne and stepped down from the dais. “Only one Decepticon has the right to eliminate Optimus Prime, me! The rest of you can do what you want with the remaining Autobots.”

 

“Lord Megatron,” Starscream groveled-no, beseeched sounded better. The _great_ Decepticon air commander beseeched to his master. “I am loyal to the Decepticon cause without question. I wish for us to claim victory in this war and for all your plans to come into fruition. The only request that I have is for my fellow Seekers to get the recognition that you promised us.”

 

“Recognition?” Megatron spat. “If you want you and your little tetrajets to have my respect you must _earn_ it first.”

 

“Haven’t I proven time and time again how loyal my fliers and I are? We go around following your orders, all I want is for them and me to be taken seriously.”

 

“Ha! The only ‘jet I cannot take seriously is you,” Megatron made known, he grinned mockingly. “Your demeanor these last few vorns have lapsed to that of a self-absorbed youngling. The only reason I haven’t shipped you off to one of Cybertron’s moons is because you are by far the most competent officer of your rank, which isn’t saying much. It would be a waste of your talents to squander them elsewhere.”

 

That was probably the nicest thing Megatron ever said to Starscream and yet he still had the bearings to insult him! Still, Starscream knew when to hold his glossa.

 

“Speaking of talents, I have a new assignment for you and the Air fleet,” Megatron pulled out a datapad from his Subspace. “While Shockwave works on his project you shall distribute the orders on this ‘pad to the entire Seeker/Flier regiment.”

 

Starscream briefly scanned the glyphs upon the screen. He did a double take and gave Megatron a look of disbelief. “Lord Megatron, you can’t possibly be serious about these orders,” he did not finish the rest of his grievances due to Megatron grabbing the Seeker’s neck and lifting him off the ground.

 

“You asked me why I don’t take you  _seriously_. If you won’t do the same with my orders then I’ll disregard everything I said about you and I’ll make sure that complaint you just made will be your last.” He tightened his servos around Starscream’s throat cables for good measure. The chocking from the Air Commander compelled Megatron to smirk. “Well~?”

 

“As-[zitt]-you ca-command, Lord Megatron,” Starscream struggled to say figuratively and literally. Megatron approved the Seeker’s compliance and dropped him. Starscream fell in an unappealing heap, his HUD flared with warnings of suffocation. His wings flattened from a mixture of pent up fury and humiliation.

 

“You are dismissed,” Megatron declared a klik later, his back turned.

 

“Yes, my lord,” Starscream rasped, his vocalizer laced with static from the prior strangling. Soundwave and Shockwave walked around him, following the Decepticons’ leader in a steady pace out of the chamber. Starscream left the opposite direction towards the main entrance. Outside two Seekers stood by, waiting. Their frames were identical to Starscream's with the exception that the one on the left had purple limbs, wings, and helm while the other on the right was blue with red highlights on his wings and pede kibble. The purple one was busy tapping the blue seeker’s shoulder with his digit. Whenever he turned around the purple jet disappeared in a flash of purpureus and reappeared at the opposite end of where the former looked.

 

“Skywarp, quit harassing Thundercracker right now or I’ll dump your stash of engex,” Starscream warned.

 

“That was you? Mech, I thought I had a Scraplet on me,” Thundercracker rubbed the back of his shoulder plates.

 

Skywrap laughed mischievously. “The look on your faceplate with priceless.”

 

Starscream ex-vented in frustration as he walked passed his trine. “Primus, no wonder Megatron is now handing me these asinine missions now,” Starscream growled.

 

“What missions?” Thundercracker asked, trailing behind his commander.

 

“This,” Starscream chucked the datapad into Thundercracker’s awaiting servos. “I have been ordered by our _illustrious_ leader to mobilize the Seekers and other air-based Decepticons. They are to travel through the rebuilt Primary Spacebridge and retake the lost Cybertronian colonies for resources and new recruits, his words not mine.”

 

Skywarp read the datapad over Thundercracker’s shoulder and frowned. “Wasn’t the reason the ‘bridge got dismantled was because of that Cosmic Rust Plague during Sentinel’s reign?”

 

“Drones sent by Shockwave recently confirm that a few colonies survived the onslaught,” Starscream answered, “And besides it’s been eleven million years now. Any threat of the disease spreading is long gone. What really has me ticked off is that Megatron is doing this to thin out my forces. He claims he wants them to go look for the Autobots’ new hiding spot but I know better.”

 

“Oh, good.” Thundercracker whispered.

 

“Hmmm?” Starscream leered at his right blue trinemate. Skywrap slapped Thundercracker with his arm. “Is there something you wish to share with us, Thundercracker?”

 

Thundercracker edged nervously, frowned. “Um, well I’m-”

 

“Something that makes you _glad_ that Megatron is diminishing my influence over the aerial forces?”

 

“No!” Thundercracker panicked.

 

“Then what compelled you to say _oh good_ in relief?”

 

“I didn’t know if you knew about the likely protest the Seekers are planning to initiate if they are forced to go off-world,” he revealed in one vent.

 

Starscream stared catatonically at the blue Seeker before he seized him and Skywrap and dragged them over to the nearest alleyway. He ex-vented before shouting, “WHAT!?!”

 

“The Seekers and other fliers. They said they didn’t want to leave Cybertron after hearing the news that the triple-changers Blitzwing, Dropkick, and Shatter were possibly destroyed to explain why they haven’t reported back.”

 

“Destroyed,” the red/gray Seeker raised an optical ridge. “By who or what exactly?”

 

Skywrap scanned the area to check if they were truly alone when he said, “The lower ranks have been hearing rumors of an Autobot that was servo-built to take down Triple-Changers. They are called the Triple-Changer Terminator.”

 

Starscream’s optics stuttered for a moment as he let the new information sink in. Then he laughed. For two kliks.  Until his throat cables’ bruises started acting up and he had to rub them. “An Autobot that specializes in killing triple-changers? Why that’s the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard. And I’m taking orders from a Decepticon that turns into a gun. This is literally my life!” His mien became humorless. “They can’t really be thinking of doing a mutiny right now of all times. Megatron does not want his plans to be delayed by any means. He’ll accuse me of starting a revolt. I cannot believe you two chose to withhold this information from me until now.”

 

“Hey don’t shoot the messengers,” Skywrap raised his servos, defensively, “The rest of the fliers forced us to tell you since they think you’d be less likely to blast us if we told you the news.”

 

Starscream stared at the two ‘jets, considering. “Well, you’re not wrong,” he acquiesced.

 

Thundercracker laced his servos and spoke solemly, “All the Seekers want is insurance that they won’t get offlined.”

 

“Then they picked the wrong careers,” Starscream stated.

 

Skywrap frowned at the commander. “They didn’t.”

 

The air around them suddenly felt cold.

 

Starscream ex-vented and pinched his olfactory sensor. “We are at war there are always going to be casulties. That is something we all have to accept.”

 

“The problem is that Shatter, Dropkick, and Blitzwing are considered to be the best of their respected ranks,” Skywrap pointed out. “If they got offlined, what chance do Seekers built as cannon fodder have?”

 

“Is _every single_ Seeker plotting to revolt?” Starscream made sure to glare at both of his trinemates while he asked the question.

 

“They gave us a petition,” Thundercracker said hastily as he removed a datapad from his Subspace and handed it to Starscream. As he skimmed through the list, his red optics widened at the number of signatures.

 

 _I can't help but ponder the frightful headway we'd make if all Seekers put this sort of energy into their jobs.**_ Starscream thought with worry. “This won’t do,” he said after he gave Thundercracker the ‘pad back. “Delete all the names on here,” he tapped the pad. “And smelt the pad too while you’re at it.”

 

Skywarp protested, “That won’t change their minds.”

 

“If any word of this gets out, meaning if Megatron hears about it… well do I even need to elaborate on what happens to ‘bots who defy him?” Thundercracker and Skywarp wince and both nod.

 

“But still,” Skywarp continued, “they’re too scared to be processing straight. Or rationally. This whole Terminator thing has them all spooked.”

 

“Then we have to make them un-spooked,” Starscream said.

 

“How do we do that?” Thundercracker rubbed a digit over the datapad’s screen.

 

“If the Seekers are too frightened to go Off-World because of some Triple-Changer terminating Autobot we’ll give them one.”

 

The purple and blue Seekers exchange glances. “How?” they say in unison. “Don’t ever do that again. That’s creepy,” Starscream ordered. “Now the Seekers are scared of leaving Cybertron because they think there’s some big scary Autobot out there, right?” He did not wait for the other two’s answer and continued, “They’ll continue thinking that way unless we give them proof of said Autobot is offlined right before their very optics.”

 

“Yeah, except we have no idea which planet the Autobot is hiding,” Skywarp said.

 

“Doesn’t matter,” Starscream waved off the concern. “If somebot just goes off the planet and bring back a corpse of some dead Autobutt, that will convince the Seekers and rest of the fliers that they have nothing to worry about.”

 

“And just who will this somebot be?” Thundercracker asked; his tone layered with unease. “I personally won’t volunteer myself for this suicide mission, just to be clear,” Skywarp added.

 

“Don’t fret, we’re going to find a _professional_.” The Decepticon Air Commander grinned sinisterly.

 

* * *

 

The flight from Kolkular to Vos was longer than Thundercraker would have liked. It did not certainly help that the trine originally flew to Rodion to find the Decepticon Starscream wanted to hire only to find out he wasn’t there. The assassin was supposed to have returned from a mission recently and go for a tune-up. It was protocol for every ‘con to do so after completing an assignment that lasted more than an orbital cycle for health reasons. For some reason the Decepticon assassin’s medic was absent. A medic by the name of Scalpel was more than willing to tell them where the ‘con they were looking for was. After a _generous_ donation of shanix was made for Deltaran Medical Facility, of course.

 

“Go to Voz. Ze ‘con you are lookink for iz there gettink hiz repairz done,” the mini-con doctor divulged.

 

“Aw, c’mon,” Skywarp groaned after they were up in the air again. “Vos is almost back where we started. This better not end up being a wild dynametal duck chase.”

 

“Patience, Skywarp,” Starscream urged. “All good things come to those who wait.”

 

“Heh, if that were the case you’d be Leader of the Decepticons now.” Starscream then gave a warning shot right by Skywarp’s horizontal stabilizer. “Hey what gives?!”

 

::You idiot!:: Starscream scolded through the commlink. ::What if you blurted that while Megatron was around? I would be shot dead if he knew I was genuinely planning to usurp him one day. Only a moron would do what you just did::

 

::I didn’t say anything:: Thundercracker said proudly

 

Skywrap’s engines hissed. ::Kiss up::

 

::Lucky for us, and more importantly my sanity, we’re about to arrive in Vos:: Starscream announced. The trine flew over the once beautiful city-state. Back before the war, Vos had some of the highest amount of energy recourses on Cybertron. Just like many other cities though it was ravaged by relentless attacks from both sides. Starscream once considered Vos a second home when the air command base was still intact. As he and his trine landed on the cracked runway abandoned in all but name he wondered why he ever thought that.

 

“Primus, what a dump,” Thundercracker said after tripping on a pothole.

 

“Can’t believe that this place was a hub of transport,” Skywarp added.

 

Starscream glared at them both. “Show some consideration. A lot of good Seekers lost their lives here fighting for us. And this was where the Survey Corps used to be located. Countless discoveries of new worlds started at this very port.”

  
“How do you know that?” Skywarp asked skeptically.

 

Starscream spared him one glance before he answered solemnly, “I was there for all of it.”

 

“You were part of the Deep Space Planetary Survey?” Thundercracker gasped. He never heard of that before.

 

“I _am_ a scientist,” Starscream affirmed. “I traveled to several planets, including a few of our lost colonies.”

 

“What made you stop,” Thundercracker did not mean for the words to slip out when he saw how tensed his Wingleader appeared to be.

 

Starscream faltered ever so slightly before he resumed his original gait. “… The war. I was reassigned as a fighter,” he added quietly.

 

The other two exchanged looks.

 

“Let’s keep moving,” Starscream ordered. “We don’t want to lose him before he leaves.”

 

The inner urban section of Vos wasn’t as badly damaged as the outer districts. It had to do with the city being in the process of re-building after the Fall of Cybertron occurred. The large skyscrapers that once towered in violet lighting were now dull and the other half of them toppled down. The small buildings were more intact, which is what Starscream cared about the most since there was one unit in particular he was looking for. After traversing through several blocks the trine arrived at a tiny building unit with a medic’s sign in red glyph.

 

“This is the right place,” Starscream declared after he compared the sign to the directions Scalpel gave him. He turned around and gazed at the blue and purple Seekers. “You both stay out here. Don’t let anybots enter.”

 

“What if they ask us why we’re standing out here?” Thundercracker asked right as Starscream placed his servo on the door handle.

 

“I don’t know. Just don’t let anyone in,” he answered distractedly

 

Skywarp rolled his optics. “Right. That won’t seem suspicious at all.”

 

Starscream ex-vented and pressed, “Just stand here I’ll be back in a breem or so.”

 

“Exactly how do you want us to stand?” Thundercracker inquired dumbly.

 

Starscream was a nano-klik away from throttling the blue Seeker but instead responded exasperatedly, “I don’t know, stand casually. I really have no time for this.” With that said the red Seeker entered the building.

 

The remaining two of the trine stood stiffly by the door’s archway. Skywarp gave Thundercracker a lazy optic and stared at his back plating.  

 

“If you trick me again I’ll shoot you,” Thundercracker warned, pointing his arm rocket at the purple teleporter.

 

Skywarp shrugged a moment later. “…. Fair enough.”

* * *

 

Starscream strutted briskly into the hallway. He had just about enough with how his day was going. The Seeker brushed pass the receptionist drone, ignoring its prerecord warning of entering without taking a number and barged into the medic’s work station. Starscream opened his mouth plate but he stopped himself. In front of him a blue heavy-duty mech was standing in front of an occupied slab, holding a rotary buffer. A custom built ‘jet faced the berth, his back turned from Starscream, giving the older Seeker a perfect view of his red wings with a black stripe on the lead edges.

 

 _Red and black wings_ , Starscream thought as his cerebral processor pinged a distant memory file that he refused to open at the last nano-klik. The big blue mech looked scared when he saw Starscream and tapped the red ‘jet’s shoulder until he got his attention. The medical ‘jet turned around and appeared nonchalant.

 

“If you want to schedule an appointment you have to speak with my desk drone like everyone else. Otherwise leave my medical office,” the red ‘jet directed to the door.

 

The faux genteel vocalizer snapped Starscream from his reminiscing. He regarded the minuscule room with an overcritical optic. “You call this a medical office?”

 

The red medic scowled, his handsome features turned ugly. “It’s the best I can afford no thanks to how much my equipment costs. It’s not like this city is crawling with injured soldiers like the capital. I have to make due.” He walked until their EM fields were practically integrated. His projections were tense and flared. “But if you don’t like it I may suggest you finding business elsewhere.”

 

Starscream was not the least bit threatened and merely pushed the doctor aside. “I’m not here for you.” He pointed a servo at the berth. “He’s who I want.” The blue mech nervously jumped away from where Starscream was pointing towards.

 

On the medical slab was a tall, slim ground based mech with black plating with dark purple lines over the arms, legs, and chassis. Everything about his frame was built for speed, including the finials on top of his pure white helm. He pushed himself until the speedster sat vertical.

 

“Commander Starscream,” the assassin said evenly. He held a steady red gaze on the gray/red Seeker.

 

“Deadlock,” Starscream composed his wings. “I’ve been looking all over for you.”

 

The assassin raised an optic ridge in mild confusion. “I don’t recall Lord Megatron sending me a message that you were coming for me.”

 

“No, I came here on my own accord. You have quite the notoriety among the higher ranks as one of Lord Megatron’s most skilled hit-mech. I’m honored to be in your presence and not have to fret of being your next target.”

 

Unknown to Starscreram behind him, the smaller flier used his right servo to imitate the commander talking and rolled his optics at certain words. The blue mech chuckled at the action. Deadlock and Starscream trained their optics on the ex-Wrecker. The heavy-duty robot pretended he was resetting his vocalizer.  

 

“Sorry. Had something in my intake valve,” he pathetically lied.

 

“I just realized I need some privacy. That means get out,” Starscream added when the medic and his assistant did not seem to get the point.

 

“Excuse me? This is my office. If you want privacy I suggest that _you_ leave.”

 

“I’m the one with the highest rank in the room. And I don’t take suggestions, I _give_ orders, like the one you’re refusing to comply.” A part of him hated paraphrasing what Megatron said to him but Starscream felt it was the best way to make his conviction clear.

 

The medic appeared to be on the verge of throwing a hissy fit but then his assistant placed a bulky servo over the red custom ‘jet’s back.

 

“Knock Out, it’s been four groons since you refueled,” the blue mech spoke casually. “I know an oil house nearby we can go to.”

 

At that, Knock Out’s shoulder pads sagged and he was calm again. “Once again Breakdown you are correct.” He gave Starscream one last half-sparked glare before he left the room with his assistant. “I would’ve off-lined years ago from lack of Energon if you weren’t around to keep me on _shedule_.”

 

When the doors closed behind the duo, Starscream placed his attention back on the speedster. “I don’t understand why you came here. My records indicate that your doctor goes by the name of Pharma.”

 

“Pharma was relocated to Iacon due to a high demand of medics there,” Deadlock answered. The assassin flicked his helm to the door. “He was the one who recommended his old student Knock Out to me. ‘Said the mech was much skilled with a buzz saw as he.”

 

“And the buffing just now?”

 

“Knock Out told me he never lets a client leave looking worse then when they come in,” Deadlock explained. His expression turned serious. “Now what is that you really want to talk about, Commander?” 

 

“As I said, you are one of the finest assassins on Cybertron. I could use your expertise in a… mission that I have planned.”

 

Deadlock deadpanned, “The answer is no.”

 

“I’m glad you agree that I-eh, what?” Starscream gaped.

 

Deadlock ex-vented and said, “I won’t be doing your dirty work, Commander Starscream.”

 

“I haven’t even told you who your target is,” the Seeker exclaimed.

 

“It’s that Triple-Changer Terminator isn’t it?”

 

Starscream casted Deadlock a horrified look. “How could you possibly know about that already?”

 

“News travels fast,” Deadlock smirked. “A lot of ground-based Decepticons thinks it’s hilarious that the Seekers are genuinely terrified of something for once.”

 

“If you are going to mock me then I shall take me leave and seek out a more agreeable assassin who’s willing to do business,” Starscream bristled his wings for good measure and stalked off. He snidely added, “The other one I’d find should probably be much more useful than a mech who only wields swords for some reason,” he was interrupted once again. Unlike the last few times it was because of a sword jabbed between his faceplate and the door his servo almost touched.

 

“The sword is as powerful as the mech who wields it,” Deadlock recited. “A saying my former mentor said to me once.”

 

Starscream narrowed his optics. “Was it during your little _vacation_ from the Decepticons that you met this master of yours?”

 

Deadlock walked to the door and pulled out the sword with ease and sheathed it. “I can assure you that was all I learned from him. I made an error during my time away from the ‘cons. I now know where my true loyalties lie,” he promised with a cold stare after he placed a servo over the Decepticon crest on his chest plate. “Now about that assassin you need I cannot help you with that, but not because of what you think.

 

“First, you have no idea where this terminator of exactly yours is hiding, whether or not they exist, or if it’s even a sentient being that took out the Triple-Changers. Second, I am one of Lord Megatron’s most favored assassins, meaning if I did consent to your deal he would be the first to notice my absence and begin asking questions. Questions that I’m sure you don’t want to lead to you. And third, what you need is someone Lord Megatron doesn’t know or care if they leave Cybertron.”

 

Starscream absorbed Deadlock’s advice, silently adding the data to his memory file. “And you wouldn’t happen to have any suggestions on who to select do you?”

 

“I might… for the right price,” Deadlock rubbed a servo against his helm.

 

“You’re joking.”

 

“Or I could just tell Lord Megatron that his Air Commander is conspiring behind his back-”

 

“Alright, okay. Fine! How does 20,000 shanix sound to you?”

 

Deadlock smiled after he accepted the payment. “I know a mech that not only can track down your terminator but I promise that Lord Megatron himself won’t give a damn if he’s Off-world.”

 

That piqued Starscream’s interest. “Where can I find him?”

 

“Are you familiar with a city called Valvolux?”

 

Starscream analyzed his memory files and found few with that name mentioned. “Only that it makes this town look like pre-war Crystal City in comparison,” he answered indifferently.

 

“You’ll find your mech there.”

 

“Why would he be living in such squalor?” Starscream reviewed a file in his HUD that showed Valvolux in ruins.

 

“Because that’s where all of his kind have been living long before the war wasted that place.”

 

Starscream’s audials caught the two words ‘his kind’ and made the swordmech repeat him self. “What I meant by _his kind_ I meant a descendant of Eukarin immigrants,” Deadlock revealed.

 

Starscream lived up to his namesake and screeched, “AN ORGANIC IMITATOR! You wish for me to employ some organic imitator? Are you suffering from a virus?!”

 

“Technically they’re called beast-modes who hail from Euarkis,” Deadlock explained. “Or at least some of them did before they migrated here prior to the Primary ‘bridge getting closed and they were permanently cut off from their home world.”

 

“I don’t need the history lesson, Deadlock. What I need is a _real_ mech to go on my mission.” 

 

Deadlock gave Starscream a very tired look. “Didn’t you hear me earlier? The mission would be much more of a success if you didn’t send someone who wouldn’t draw attention from Lord Megatron. He hates beast-modes as much as the next ‘con. If there wasn’t a war going on I’d bet my entire sword collection that he’d be happily shooting off every colonist with an organic frame.”

 

Starscream considered Deadlock’s statement before he nodded reluctantly. “True. On both accounts. But still, I am not comfortable with trusting some beast I don’t know with this kind of mission. How well do _you_ know this beast?”

 

“I don’t know him personally,” Deadlock confessed honestly. “Some of my old connections from the underground have mentioned how far he has come along. Him and his little pack.”

 

“Pack!”

 

“Pack, team, gang, unit, call it whatever you want the point is Lord Megatron won’t care if one or a few beast-modes go Off-World. You of all people have nothing to lose if the beast-mode and his crew disappear. You might even find a way to fabricate a grand lie to Lord Megatron, convincing him that you were tricking some beast-modes to leave Cybertron on purpose if this fails.”

 

Starscream was not amused by Deadlock’s poor attempt at a joke. However he had to settle with what the assassin was doing for him. Megatron truly did not care for any of the organic imitators and their ilk. Pit, there was not a single beast in the Decepticon army. Not even as cannon fodder like the Seekers.

 

“Can you assure me that this… beast-mode,” Starscream inwardly cringed, “will comply?”

 

Deadlock smiled, his fanged denta gleaming in the artificial light. “Give a mech what he wants and he’ll willingly walk over a smelting pit for it.”

 

With that said both Decepticons bid each other a salute and left the medical building.

 

Thundercracker and Skywarp were still at their posts and thankfully were not at each others throat cables either. Starscream called for their attention through the commlink and gave them the directions to Valvolux.

 

“Oh one more thing,” Deadlock said after he reached the trine before they left. “I recommend that all three of you meet with the mech you’re looking for. He views other mechs who travel alone as weaklings.”

 

“You never told me his designation,” Starscream pointed out.

 

“He calls himself, Steeljaw.”

 

Some odd groons later, the trine reached Valvolux. There was no runway for them to dock so they had to settle with reverting to their bi-pedal forms and roll to the ground for a soft landing.

 

“Yep, I’ll be feelin’ that for a deca-cycle,” Skywarp griped while he massaged a landing gear.

 

“Stop whining and start moving,” Starscream demanded.

 

To say that Valvolux was habitable was truly an undeserving compliment. Unlike Vos, that did have a few Cybertronians occupying the zone, none whatsoever where in the once thriving Ministry of Energry and Nutrition. Its roadways were scarred from warfare. The factories were now hollowed-out, long ago picked away by greedy scavengers. Around the trine they could hear the howls, growls, and hisses of various beasts. They were not visible to the trine’s optics but they knew they were being watched. Or preyed upon.

 

“This place is giving me the creeps,” Thundercracker bemoaned. A nearby bark induced the blue Seeker to jump.

 

Skywarp rolled his optics at the other flier’s antics, “Then why not do us all a favor and go back to Kaon?” 

 

“Starscream said-”

 

“What is he now, your surrogate?”

 

“No,” Thundercracker did not pick up Skywarp’s sarcasm, “Starscream is-”

 

“Starscream will rip both of your vocal synthesizers if you don’t stay quiet,” Starscream warned.

 

“This site is still creepy,” Thundercracker reaffirmed a klik later.

 

Starscream ex-vented in irritation. “While it is admirable for a Deception to keep their guard one must remember to never show one ounce of fear-” A blue quadrupedal beast appeared from behind a half-fallen girder. Its yellow optics glowed in the dark.

 

Starscream bellowed a very un-mech-ly outcry.

 

A whole klik of silence passed.

 

“Well, you just lost more esteem from me, Commander,” Skywarp said with genuine disappointment.

 

“Forgive me,” the beast in the shadows spoke. “I couldn’t help but overhear that you three were Decepticons. I had to get a better look to see with my own optics.”

 

“Yeah, and we can give you a demonstration,” Skywarp cocked his arm’s laser cannon, threateningly. Thundercracker did the same.

 

“Wait,” Starscream began only to realize that his voice box shriller than normal and reset it to a few octaves lower than his regular accent. “Wait, I am Starscream, Commander of the Air-”

 

“We knows who you are,” another voice spoke out. The cadence reminded Starscream of a certain Autobot scientist, only much more malicious. Starscream activated his inferred and saw through the dark. In front of the trine were the two beasts. Both of them stood on two legs and were approximately exact heights. One had a helm with a long rack that resembled the horns from Cervidae mammals. The other one who spoke first had long, wide, finials, clawed digits, and what appeared to be a tail at the end of its chassis.

 

“What my friend oh so, corrosively articulated is that we are familiar with your insignia,” the first who spoke stepped out into the light, his blue and gray plating on display. He barred his sharp denta into a smile far too forced to be sincere. “We are in actuality admirers of your faction and you could say big fans of your work in particular.”

 

Starscream rolled his optics, “Enough with the flattery, Steeljaw. I can see through your two-faced act from a colony away. You’d have to try harder; we Decepticons practically wrote the book on lulling the enemy into a false sense of security.”

 

Thundercracker and Skywarp adjoined remarks of agreement.

 

Steeljaw’s grin did not falter. “It might be hard to believe for you of all people but we legitimately desire to be assistance to you. The only reason you could be here is because you have heard of I and my pack’s services, am I correct?”

 

Starscream’s optic remained on the beast. “Possibly, if the rumors are true.”

 

“All of ‘em are,” the antlered beast asserted. He walked next to his partner and crossed his arms. “If yous want a job done quickly and quietly we’re the beast-modes you want.”

 

“Thunderhoof speaks the truth,” Steeljaw claimed. “We can track and take down any creature anywhere. Including that Triple-Changer Terminator that’s been troubling your little Seekers.”  

 

“Oh, wonderful.” Starscream’s engines revved as he shoved a servo over his faceplate. “You’ve heard about the terminator-bot.”

 

“Is it true that he took down thirty Triple-Changers?” Thunderhoof asked with interest.

 

Starscream ex-vented and glowered at the blue and black beast. “No, it wasn’t that many,” he said eerily calm. “However the Terminator is some-bot not to be taken lightly. We have a common enemy because we have high intel that the Cybertronian in question is none other than an Autobot.”

 

Steeljaw and Thunderhoof exchanged glances before they snarled furiously.

 

Starscream held back a smirk. Those were the reactions he was looking for.

 

::Are they going savage?:: Thundercracker questioned worriedly.

 

::Before we landed I looked through the data-files on a Steeljaw and learned that he was present during the barrage that destroyed Valvolux. His carrier and sire were wiped out from the attack:: Starscream revealed with darken glee.

 

::But I thought both sides were responsible for the bombing?:: Thundercracker noted.

 

::Yes, but these dumb animals don’t know that:: Starscream realized the perfect opportunity that befell on him and approached the two beast-modes with false pretenses. “We both have a common enemy. This criminal is on the loose killing able-body ‘cons with no remorse and no compassion. I am giving you the distinct honor of terminating the Terminator-bot,” Starscream chuckled at his pun, unaware of how weak it was. He resumed, “All I need from you is to say yes.”

 

“What’s innit for us?” Thunderhoof challenged.

 

Starscream frowned but remained unperturbed. “How does 50,000 Shanix sound to you?”

 

Thunderhoof’s optics gleamed greedily but Steeljaw pushed him aside. “What we want is more valuable than money.”

 

Starscream’s optical ridges narrowed. “What’s more important than shanix to you?”

 

Steeljaw tapped a clawed digit on Starscream’s left wing. “This.”

 

  
“Even if you were a groundkisser I would not stoop so low to interface with you.”

 

Steeljaw looked equally disgusted. “What-No! That’s not what I want. I was pointing at the Decepticon emblem.”

 

Starscream ex-vented in relief but then sobered. “Your desire is to become a Decepticon.” The wolf-mech grinned, “Indeed I do.”

 

An astrosecond passed and then Starscream chuckled spark-lessly. “Megatron does not care for your kind. What makes you think he’d be interested in the likes of you?”

 

“Wasn’t there a time when bein’ a Decepticon meant you was fighting for yer freedom ‘gainst the system?” Thunderhoof snapped accusingly.

 

“I’ve been asking myself that same question for millennia now,” Starscream muttered.

 

“If you won’t get my pack and me badges we won’t help you,” Steeljaw insisted. The four mechs stared down at one another while Starscream contemplated.

 

“Very well,” Starscream answered finally. “I will _discuss_ with Lord Megatron the possibility of … beast-modes joining our ranks. I can’t guarantee that he will consent to the request, but you never know…” he trailed off, pretending that it implied that there was any hope for Steeljaw’s wide-optic daydream.

 

Steeljaw bowed gratefully. “That’s all I ask.”

 

Starscream removed a data-map from his Subspace and handed it to Steeljaw. “The location on this map will lead you to a ship. In six groons a ship will be docked in the south side. If you are interested we will meet you there.”

 

“How big of a ship are we’s talkin’ about?” Thunderhoof asked after he scanned the document.

 

“How many ‘bots do you intend to bring?” Starscream queried.

 

“Just me, Thunderhoof and another friend of ours.” Steeljaw answered evenly.

 

“A real big friend,” Thunderhoof added with mild amusement.

 

Starscream felt his right optic lid glitch but kept his faceplate straight.  _This not how imagined today would go._

* * *

 

“So, the last known location of the three Triple-Changers was the edge of the Solar System galaxy before each of their homing signals became silent. We cannot deny nor confirm if they even ventured into that quadrant but if the Terminator-bot wanted to hide out somewhere it wouldn’t hurt to look there.” Starcream concluded to Steeljaw and his pack.

 

Just as the Decepticon Ari Commander promised, the three Eurakian descendants were given a standard _Dropship_ , which included a few small modifications. The ship’s outer plating was reinforced and had a warp drive with a large enough fuel tank for two round trips from Cybertron across the Milky Way. For a bonus, with no additional charge, it had the most adequate cloaking device. The best the Decepticons could learn anyway from what remained of the Outlier*** clan’s data.

 

“Very good, Swindle. Not in bad shape. Not bad at all,” Starscream commented before sparing the smaller ground-based Decepticon a glance.

 

“Anything for the Decepticons. You are my best costumers after all,” Swindle smirked.

 

“That better mean we’re you only costumers,” Stasrscream warned threateningly.

 

“As far as he knows,” Swindle whispered to Steeljaw and his pack before he left.

 

Starscream approached the beast-modes and gave them a one last look. “Don’t screw up this mission. When you come back with the Triple-Changer Terminator-bot’s helm you will be rewarded. If you fail, don’t bother coming back at all. The Decepticon cause has zero tolerance for failure. Is that clear to you?”

 

While the other members of the pack looked concerned with the news Steeljaw was not and bowed. “Transparently.”

 

“I suggest you take your leave sooner rather than later,” Starscream advised. “It’s a long trip even with the warp drive.” He took out a small square-shaped device and gave it to the wolf-mech. “This is an Energon Radiation probe. It’ll help you locate a Cybertronian if all other scanners prove useless.” Starscream offered a demonstration by activating the tester. Its needle pointed to the highest number when the tip was situated in front of the Seeker trine. “It’s a prototype, so I highly recommend that you don’t break it.”

 

Steeljaw nodded before placing the newly acquired device into his Subspace “Alright pack, let’s move out.”

* * *

 

Location: Earth, Muir Woods, CA. Date: June 5, 1988

 

“Eyy-yo! Quit shovin’ will ya!”

 

“Yer the one who keeps shovin’”

 

“Stop it,” Steeljaw snarled, temporarily silencing the other two. “The scanner is picking up a trace of En-Radiation.”

 

“Please tell us it’s a fresh one this time. We’ve been out here for days now.”

 

“Not just fresh, Thunderhoof, it’s a large amount. There’s a Cybertronian nearby in this forest.”

 

The biggest mech of the three spoke out, his voice was much more guttural than the other two. “’Bout time, all a’ this dirt and lack a’ metal is givin’ me alloy hives…” Then the beast sniffed, his optics narrowed. “Wait, that’s no Cybertronian. It’s one of those tiny organics.”

 

Indeed. What the three beast-mechs saw was a small organic departing from a building unit that had a pungent stench that reeked of sulfur. Judging from the organics’ physical attributes, it was a female of the planet’s dominant species. Or as dominate as a race of organics could become on such a primitive world.

 

“Chela,” Thunderhoof cursed. “Jus’ how many of ‘em are there? They’re multiplying.”

 

“I don’t understand,” Steeljaw complained. “The scanner is only getting one life form.” He continued to glower at the probe until a new file developed in his processer. “Unless… I believe we may have found the Terminator-bot’s pet,” Steeljaw smirked deviously.

 

The bigger mech grimaced. “Gross. What should we do with it?”

 

“Underbite, we’re going to do what we do best. Find a weakness and exploit it. I’ll set up a distraction and you two grab the squishy little human. Got it?”

 

Thunderhoof and Underbite grinned nefariously as they took their positions in the trees. Steeljaw waited until there were no other organics around before he made his move and howled.

**End of Chapter 3**

 

* * *

 

 **Q-A:** Alright, I bet a lot of you are bummed out that no Autobots or Charlie and ‘Bee were in this chapter. But there is a reason for it. I wanted to make the differences between the Autobots and Decepticons clear before the real battle begins. Major divergences between the two (aside from living on two different worlds now) is how they act. While the Autobots argue they still apologize and treat one another as friends. The Decepticons, on the other hand, don’t. They clearly get on each other nerves show little remorse if someone gets hurt. Those who do show some empathy will get the most character development. (Off topic, I had a lot easier time writing the dialogue in this chapter because all of the sassy lines from Starscream was just so much fun to write. Knock Out's too XD) 

( 1) Optimus Prime is a father to his men through and through and always has their backs. Even if some might protest with a plan of his at first they do accept it once Optimus explains why it needs to be done. The Autobots have a great sense of loyalty to their leader because he shows the same back to them. Megatron openly threatens Starscream with death and shows no compassion to anyone else. The main reason anyone hasn’t shown signs of defecting is because he has a large following of fanatics.

(2) You all must be wondering what Starscream is going to be like in this story. Well, I won’t spoil anything I’ve already written. He doesn’t like Megatron at all in this story (I’m sorry) and is growing tired with how long the war is going. One reason he joined the Decepticons is because he didn’t like how he and his fellow Seekers were being treated in pre-war Cybertron. He is one of the few Seekers to still remember what a pre-war Cybertron is like though. Thundercracker and Skywarp are war-born and had no choice but to fight while it was Starscream’s.

(3) Now for the other big change I made was making Steeljaw from _TF:_   _RiD_ _2015_ a beast-mode as well as Thunderhoof and Underbite. I personally chose this because I thought it was strange that so many Decepticons in that show were animal based but their alt-modes were still vehicles. I thought it would’ve been more interesting to see Autbots and beast-modes fight kinda like in the _Uprising_ comics or whatever _Beast Machines_ was trying to do. It also serves a purpose later on in the story, which I won’t spoil because… well, you know.

(4) Just to be clear Pharma isn’t a Decepticon in this but he isn’t an Autobot either. He works for whoever is willing to pay the highest for his services and it just happens to be the Decepticons.

(5) The only reason Scalpel is here is because I couldn’t find enough Decepticon doctors with names. I swear I won’t use any more movie-only Decepticons.

 

References:

*A Stellar Cycle is 7.5 Earth months according to TFwiki.com. (In case you are all wondering I’m placing Cybertron near the Alpha Centauri system in this canon.)

**Taken almost word for word from TeamFourStar’s _Hellsing Ultimate Abridged_. (An abridge of an abridged line if you will.)

***That’s the title I’m going for Mirage’s linage. It’s tricky to use a surname in a TF fic since Cybertronians don’t really have them but considering how rich Mirage is I bet he could afford a title of some kind.

 

Song Used: 

Blue Monday by New Order (Picked it because that instrumental just screamed Cybertronian to me and the lyrics fit well with a few of the Deceptions in this chapter, namely Starscream.)

 

Keep on Writin’ and Rockin’


	5. Hungry Like The Wolf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Always read the material right after you get it. It’ll make your doctor/teacher a lot happier if you do.

**Q-A:** Well, after that short field trip to Cybertron we’re all caught up now. Back to the main plot again! I bet you’re all soaked about that. ^-^ I wish I could say more but I don’t wanna spoil anything. So, I’ll just give a big thanks for all the reviews and kudos I’ve been getting and I appreciate how patient a lot of you are. It warms my heart.

 

 ** _Disclaimer:_** I do not own The Transformers. It solely belongs to Hasbro and Paramount. The song used in this chapter belongs to its respected producer/singers. 

 

 

 **Warnings** for this chapter are:

swearing, death threats, attempts at torture,

xenophobia towards humans, and slight OOC moments.

 

 

“Straddle the line in discord and rhyme

I'm on the hunt down I'm after you

Mouth is alive with juices like wine

And I'm hungry like the wolf”

 

 - “Hungry Like The Wolf” by Duran Duran

* * *

 

Location: Autobot Temp-base, Muir Woods, CA. Date: June 5, 1988

 

“How could we have lost Charlie?” Bumblebee paced around, way passed into panic mode.

 

Twenty kliks had passed since the Calvary scout’s vocalizer was restored and instead of it being a time of celebration there was only worry.

 

Jazz tried to pacify the Camaro. He place an arm over Bumblebee’s shoulder and said, “Easy Lil ‘Bee, Charlie just went off for a bit to rest is all.”

 

“Rest?” ‘Bee stared at the Spec Ops. “That’s not what it sounded like to me at all.”

 

“You heard her and me talkin’?” Jazz asked in surprise.

 

‘Bee shook Jazz off, crossed arms and remarked sharply, “Just because my voice box couldn’t work before doesn’t mean my audials don’t work either.”

 

“Bumblebee,” Optimus Prime spoke with disproval. “You have no right to reproach your superior with such discretion.”

  
Bumblebee’s optics widened in realization before they dimmed. “I’m so sorry, Jazz.”

 

Jazz patted ‘Bee. “It ain’t you’re fault Charlie left.”

 

“She did not leave to rest anyway,” Ratchet said.

 

“Then what did she go to do?” Jazz wondered.

 

Ratchet frowned. “Did you not read the medical reports on human biology I formulated?”

 

“We were ‘posed to read those?” Ironhide scratched his helm.

 

Ratchet stared incredulously. “Did none of you read it?”

 

Ultra Magnus raised a servo. “I read the documents.”

 

The medic rolled his optics. “Of course you did, but did anyone else?”

 

Almost immediately everybot (sans Magnus) hesitated to lock optics with Ratchet. Including Optimus.

 

“Really Optimus?” Ratchet asked with dismay.

 

Optimus guiltily turned his helm away. “I haven’t found the time to pore over the journal.”

 

“Oh no,” Brawn stared worriedly at the SIC. “I think Magnus is about to glitch.”

 

“I guess his cerebral processor is having trouble computing the idea of Optimus not being perfect at everything,” Arcee observed as steam started to waft out of the FLC112’s helm.

 

Ratchet’s engines revved angrily. “THAT’S IT! Until you all review the medical journal we are not doing anything else!”

 

“But,” Bumblebee started to protest.

 

“READ IT!”

 

**~12 Breems Later~**

“There,” Ratchet concluded with a smug look. “Now we’re all a little bit wiser than we were before.” Around the medic everybot, but Ultra Magus, had expressions of shock, confusion, and mild disgust.

 

“I,” Ironhide’s vocalizer shuttered with static. “I’m now more familiar with humans than I ever wanna be.”

 

“And I thought being a femm on my planet was difficult,” Arcee’s spark wracked with sympathy. “To have to go through _that_ once a lunar cycle,” she trailed off.

 

“It still makes no sense why they call it a rest room,” Jazz said with a stunned expression.

 

“Can we please go look for Charlie now?” Bumblebee pleaded.

 

Optimus, who had been staring off in the distance for two kliks, quickly ex-vented and declared, “Yes, we shall look for Ms. Watson at once.”

 

“Are you sure?” Ratchet asked. “Because I have a few articles on human reproduction that we haven’t reviewed.”

 

“NO!” was the other Autobots’ immediate answer.

 

Jazz led Bumblebee in their car modes as they drove down the path Charlie walked on. The remaining Autobots retained in their bi-pedal forms as they stealthily moved around the trees. They arrived at the park’s main entrance in a few kliks. With how late it was in the afternoon, there were no humans present. Thank Primus, it would make their investigation all the more easier.

 

At once, the Autobots used their scanners to gather any traces of Charlie.

 

“Hmm,” Jazz’s engine hummed. “I’m pickin’ up some unique signatures here. And they ain’t human.”

 

‘Bee nodded in agreement. “Me too. But for some reason it feels sorta off.”

 

Jazz pursed his dermas in thought. “Strange…”

 

“I found some tracks that are partially covered up,” Arcee announced. Optimus was beside her and examined the prints. They were not like any tire tracks they had seen before.

 

“These are not ordinary Cybertronian pede-prints,” Optimus acknowledged.

 

“Heya, Optimus,” Wheejack called out, capturing the Prime’s attention. The team’s scientist stood by the public restrooms. He waved the semi-truck to come over. “You might wanna come over ta see what I found.”

 

“What is that, Wheeljack?” Optimus asked after he arrived. Wheeljack had his servos on a rectangular contraption. “This ‘ere’s a primitive visual recording device. It’s attached to the wall here by the restroom as a security measure ta overlook the park’s entrance.”

 

“How do you know all that?” ‘Bee asked as the others joined the group.

 

“Because I have a cable connected to it right now and I’m lookin’ through the security tapes inside. If Charlie came to this place it should have ‘er on it.”

 

‘Bee was all audials to what Wheeljack just said. “Have you found her yet?”

  
“Slow your pistons, ‘Bee. I just started lookin’.” Wheeljack stood silent for a few nano-kliks until he exclaimed, “Oh, mech, I have found somethin’!”

 

“Project your discovery on a hologram so we may all overview your findings,” Optimus ordered, he spared a small glance at ‘Bee’s direction. Bumblebee winced. He guessed that Optimus sensed his worrying EM field.

 

“Alright, here’s what I uncovered,” On the flat projection screen a series of video clips played simultaneously. When Wheeljack motioned with his servos, the pre-recordings were deleted until one was left. The scientist swirled a digit as he explained, “So here you can all see Charlie exiting this building here. For a klik nothing appears outta the ordinary right?” His digit stopped moving as the film ceased fast-forwarding at the exact moment. “Here’s where things get trippy,” he moved his digit again, this time sliding it for the film to start playing at normal speed. What Bumblebee and the Autobots see is almost indescribable. “One nano-klik she’s standin’ there mindin’ her own business, then this black blur appears outta nowhere and boom, next image shows nothin’.”

 

“A black blur?” Arcee narrowed her optics in thought.

 

“Wheeljack is there any chance you can slow down the footage?” Jazz asked.

 

Bumblebee had his optics stare straight at the screen.

 

Wheeljack did as the saboteur asked and slowed the film from nano-kliks to astro-seconds. The ‘bots could see the blur was not a blur but instead a limber mech with black/blue platting and the longest helm appendages any of them had ever seen. In slow motion Charlie turned around, staring curiously at some direction before the antlered mech grabbed her from behind.

 

“What on Cybertron is that?” Ratchet exclaimed.

 

“It ain’t any Cybertronian I’ve ever seen,” Ironhide noted.

 

Arcee asked, “Did anyone see if he had an Autbot or Decepticon badge on him?”

 

“Prime,” the Spec Ops tapped Optimus on the shoulder. “Yes?” Optimus inquired. “What is it, Jazz?”

 

“I think I know what that is. I ain’t seen one in vorns though.”

 

Optimus nodded in agreement. “I too have not seen a mech like that in a very long time.”

 

“So,” Wheeljack pressed. The other Autobots ceased their observations and waited to hear what the Prime and Spec Ops had to say. Bumblebee, however, kept fidgeting.

 

“It appears the being responsible for abducting Charlie Watson is an Eurakian.”

 

“Good,” Bumblebee stated before anybot else got a word in edgewise, “now we know who took her.” The scout proceeded to leave but Ironhide blocked his path.

 

“Alrigh’ kid, what crawled up your tailpipe?” Ironhide demanded. ‘Bee attempted to move around the bigger ‘bot but could not.

 

“I have to go find her!”

 

Ironhide slowly nodded. “Yeah, we understand-”

 

 “No you don’t! Charlie’s both my friend and my responsibility. I promised her carrier that I wouldn’t let Charlie get hurt. If anything happens to her, I won’t forgive myself.”

 

“We know. That’s why we’re helpin’ ya find the gal,” Ironhide answered evenly.

 

“Yeah, Lil ‘Bee we care ‘bout her too,” Jazz said further. “I shoulda followed her when she left but I didn’t. It’s really my fault she’s missing.”

 

“And I shouldn’t have done an impromptu lecture on human biology if I had known how the dire situation of Charlie Watson’s disappearance was,” Ratchet added, his ever present frown deeper than normal.

 

“No, this is _my_ fault,” Bumblebee insisted. “I brought her here. I should never have in the first place.” His optics focused past the trees. “It’s my burden to go save her.”

 

“As admirable as your determination is there is true value of putting one’s faith in the strength of those around you,” Optimus acknowledge wisely.

 

Bumblebee stared deeply at his leader and then to the rest of the Autobots.

 

“We’re your allies Bumblebee. We _will_ help you relocate Charlie Watson,” Ratchet affirmed.  

 

“You don’t have to do this alone anymore ‘Bee,” Arcee reassured.

 

“Yeah, you’ve got us,” Brawn conjoined. “As sappy as it sounds we’ll all carry the weight together.”

 

Jazz spoke not a word but his easy smile stimulated encouragement. He just nodded once and that was all he needed to say. Bumblebee felt his spark skip a pulse and warm his internal frame. What the others said was true. He did not have to do everything by himself anymore. And that included rescuing his friend.

 

“Sorry everyone,” ‘Bee apologized. “I was being a aft, wasn’t I?”

 

“Yep,” Ironhide answered bluntly. Everyone, Ultra Magnus included, laughed.

 

“Wisdom cannot be granted, it must be earned.” Optimus offered to the young scout.

 

“Ack,” Ultra Magnus grimaced as he scraped the bottom of his left pede. “I hope this is mud again.”

 

“Wait a klik,” Ratchet rushed over to the SIC. “Lift your pede,” the medic instructed.

 

“What’s the diagnostic, Ratch’?” Brawn asked.

 

Ratchet frowned. “One, don’t ever call me that again. And two, my scanners are picking up the constituents of substances edible to humans. The primary materials are flour, yeast, water, a paste of peanuts, and preservatives made from smashed grapes.”

 

“’Paste of peanuts and smashed grapes.’” Bumblebee repeated before his optics widened. “Wait! That’s from Charlie’s sandwich.”

 

Ironhide became dumbfounded. “Wha…?”

 

“Charlie’s carrier whipped up nutrients for Charlie to consume. You all remember Ratchet and me telling her to eat earlier, right? The piece of sandwich that Ultra Magnus stepped on by accident must be hers.”

 

“That’s not all,” Jazz detected with his scanners. He pointed at another piece of the meal by the south edge of the woods. “There’s a trail of the food down that way.”

 

“It must be a pathway that Charlie Watson made to lead us to her exact location,” Magnus adjudged.

 

“Let’s follow it!” ‘Bee exclaimed. He almost started to move again before he caught himself. “Uh, should we follow the trace that Charlie left for us, Optimus?” He asked, sheepishly.

 

Behind the mask guard, Optimus smiled. “I believe that we must follow the trail of breadcrumbs without delay or else small forest creatures will ingest the path we seek.”

 

Bumblebee ex-vented with relief.

 

“Ratchet and Brawn,” Optimus communicated to the ‘bots in question. “You two shall stay at the base. Insure that no humans stumble upon it by accident. The rest of you come with Bumblebee and I. We’re going to go retrieve our new friend, Charlie Watson.”

 

“Yes sir,” all of the members acceded Optimus’ command.

 

“Autobots, roll out!”

 

Seven of the nine Cybertronians searched the largely spread out trail. It led them towards the Panoramic Highway and they all drove north.

 

 _Charlie you have got to be the smartest human I’ve ever met_ , Bumblebee thought in amazement.

* * *

 

Location: Mt. Tamalpais, CA. Date: June 5, 1988

_This is literally the stupidest plan I’ve ever come up with. Am I seriously taking cues from Hansel and Gretel?_ Charlie thought in shame.

 

Daylight had already begun to recede by the time Charlie had run out of sandwiches to use as trail markers. If she found a way to escape her kidnappers or it somehow helped the Autobots find her, that is. She was starting to lean towards the second option since the antlered robot threw her into a makeshift cage.

 

“So, we’s got it, now what? Jus’ wait ‘til de ‘bot shows up?” The big antlered robot spoke in the most stereotypical mob boss accent Charlie ever heard.

 

A robot almost as big as Optimus Prime kept nudging the cage with his beak-shaped muzzle. The noises he made reminded Charlie of Conan when he snuffled around looking for food at home. She prayed to God that she wasn’t on the menu.

 

“The squishy’s got some metal bits on ‘er,” the big machine slobbered. “Can I eat those?”

 

Charlie instinctively clutched on her necklace’s charms, an old bolt refashioned as a bead from the first car she helped her dad fix and a recent addition; her mother’s first wedding ring.

 

“No,” the robot that resembled a wolf said. He was the smallest of the three and yet the way he carried him-self made the other two follow without too much hesitation. “That’s not how we treat our guests, Underbite. Clearly those charms have some sentimental value to her, don’t they?” He leered at Charlie.

 

Charlie swallowed, tried to keep her breathing steady.

 

“You’re frightened,” the wolf commented.

 

“You kidnapped me and dragged me out into the middle of the woods, lock me in a cage, why wouldn’t I be scared?” Charlie pointed out. Still a part of her was curious, “What do you want from me?”

 

“From you personally? Nothing,” the wolf answered. Next to him, Underbite frowned in annoyance, probably sad that he couldn’t eat Charlie’s jewelry. The wolf-bot casted Underbite a dirty look before he resumed speaking, “What we came here for is presumably not organic in the slightest.”

 

Charlie crossed her arms, schooled her face to remain emotionless.

 

The antlered robot appeared agitated and shouted at Charlie, “Tell us about de Terminator-bot!”

 

Charlie winced from the yelling before she did a double take. “The _what_?”

 

“Uh, ter-min-ator-bot,” he articulated slowly as though he was speaking to a two-year-old. “Like a thing that, uh,” he struggled momentarily. “Terminates other things. Get da picture?”

 

The robotic wolf sighed and covered his face with one of his paws.

 

“Yeah, that’s what I thought you said,” Charlie muttered as she rubbed her sore ears. She shook her head before putting on her brave face again. “Listen I have no idea what you’re talking about. I never seen another giant talking robot until you guys showed up.”

 

“Is that so?” the wolf asked, unconvinced. “You don’t seem afraid. Scared of what we plan to do you, yes, but not at all surprised to see us. Ergo, you must be familiar with cybernetic beings like my partners and I.”

 

Charlie mentally cursed herself but kept her calm composure. “If I was familiar with your kind I’d know a robot called the Terminator-bot but too bad for you, I _don’t_.”

 

“Yer lyin’ squishy.” Underbite laughed. He shoved his metal nose at right into the cage’s walls. “I can smell your lies all over ya.”

 

Charlie felt her apathetic attitude break slightly as her heart pulsed rapidly.

 

“Eyy-yo,” the robotic deer pushed Underbite back. “What did Steeljaw jus’ say, huh? Back off.”

 

Steeljaw ignored them and focused his attention on Charlie. “How about I go into some details about the Terminator-bot? That should help job your memory perhaps?”

 

Charlie remained silent. The 18-year-old inwardly smirked when she saw Steeljaw’s smiling façade falter momentarily. “You see we are bounty hunters searching for a wanted criminal who offlined three soldiers from the planet we reside. While they had varying personalities and colorings they did share one thing in common. They were Triple-changers, meaning they were robots that could shape-shift into three forms.”

 

Charlie felt her blood freeze, as did the rest of her body. They knew. Somehow they knew about Bumblebee.

 

“Does that sound familiar to you?”

 

 _But they don’t know his name. I still have a chance,_ Charlie thought with some positivity. She had to figure a way to escape before they found out about Bumblebee. The mechanic secretly examined her cage and noticed how crudely made it actually was.

 

If Charlie had a chance to get out she needed to make it herself.

* * *

 

  
“How many are there?”

 

“I heard three different vocalizers, Optimus,” Arcee responded as she listened in her audio receptive coil, which was extended all the way near the exterior of Charlie’s captors’ camp. “I only caught two designations though.”

 

“What are they?” Ironhide inquired.

 

“Underbite and Steeljaw.”

 

“Anything on the criminal database, Magnus?” Optimus asked his Second in Command.

 

Ultra Magnus examined details of an ‘Underbite’ and ‘Steeljaw’ on his HUD. “’Indeed, I got one on Underbite.” He projected his findings on display. “He’s been charged with damage claims against the city of Nuon.”

 

Wheeljack glanced at the mugshot and mused aloud, “What did he do to it?”

 

“He ate it,” Ultra Magnus responded bluntly.

 

The Autobots shared a nano-klik of silence as they saved the news into their memory files.

 

Ironhide scowled. “I remember hearin’ ‘bout that. It was the only time the Decepticons were actually bein’ honest about not destroyin’ a town.”

 

Bumblebee waved a servo towards the Second In Command. “What about Steeljaw? Who’s he?”

 

Ultra Magnus scanned his optics briefly before he answered, “He’s a small time criminal in the Cybertron underground. He has savagely slaughtered over a dozen Autobots for the highest bidder.”

 

“And the third ‘bot?” Optimus asked Arcee. The communications expert shook her helm. “I’m not catching a designation from him.”

 

“Wait,” Bumblebee poked Magnus on the shoulder. “Go to the last picture of Steeljaw, sir.” The red, white, and blue Freightliner did what Bumblebee requested. The previous picture reappeared, clearly an image card from a standard security drone. The Steeljaw in the snapshot was in the process of a pre-pounce with two other mechs behind him. One was the large Underbite while the other was that beast with the large rack of antlers. Bumblebee pointed at the mech. “Do you have a file on him?”

 

“As a matter of fact,” Magnus trailed off as the aforementioned file popped up. “Here. This delinquent goes by the name of Thunderhoof. A mech who has unsuccessfully attempted to partake in organized crime many times.”

 

“And ya didn’t think about sharing this info or ‘is designation earlier is because~” Wheeljack purposely trailed off.

 

“It wasn’t significant at the time,” Magnus responded frankly. Wheeljack rolled his optics.

 

“Alright, so there’s seven of us and three of ‘em. I like those odds,” Ironhide grinned.

 

“No,” Magnus shook his helm. “If we wish to apprehend them without any harm befalling Ms. Watson, we mustn’t go at them all at once. The perpetrators may possibly run off or worse if we appeared all together.”

 

Bumblebee shivered at the words ‘or worse’ but kept his game faceplate on.

 

“I agree,” Jazz stated in a very uncharacteristically serious manner. “The last thing we want is ta turn this into a hostage sitch’.”

 

“Ugh, it’s times like these I wish Mirage was still online… Too soon?” Wheeljack added after he saw the dismal looks from his teammates.

 

“They just brought up another designation,” Arcee announced a klik later. “They’re demanding Charlie to tell them about a bot called the, okay this is going to sound strange, but the designation they’re using is the Triple-Changer Terminator. The claim the Decepticons want him for offlining Blitzwing, Dropkick, and Shatter.”

 

“They are talking about me?” Bumblebee tapped his servos against the tree he was leaning on with worry.

 

“That’s a possibility,” Jazz replied for Arcee.

 

“It really is my fault Charlie was taken,” ‘Bee’s tone was heavy with guilt. He stared at the direction where his human friend was being held.

 

Optimus placed a servo over the scout’s shoulder for comfort. “Do not blame yourself for protecting the Earth and your friend’s life, Bumblebee. All actions have consequences, both good and bad.”

 

Optimus glanced over to the Autobots’ Security Lieutenant. “Ironhide, do you still have a memory file on the battle of Junkion that you and Kup were involved in?”

 

“Yeah, but what’s that gotta do with…” Ironhide trailed off before his optics widened and then he smirked knowingly. “Oh, you mean-”

 

Optimus nodded, his optics gleaming with levity. “Indeed.”

 

Ironhide’s frame shook with excitement. “Heh-heh-heh, this is gonna be good.”

 

“Bumblebee,” the scout turned his attention towards the Autobots’ leader who further said, “You shall go retrieve Charlie Watson. Don’t inflict harm unless all other alternatives have been exhausted. Now go.”

 

The yellow Camaro bobbed his head. With his HUD activated and mask on, Bumblebee slyly journeyed over the vegetation.

 

“And always keep your commlink on at all times,” Optimus instructed the Autobots. Steadily they concealed themselves, heading into the dark forest one by one.

 

::Bumblebee:: Optimus wasted no time communicating, via the commlink. ::How familiar are you with the colony planet of Eukaris?::

 

‘Bee exerted himself while he avoided to make any loud sounds that could alert Steeljaw and his pack. ::Optimus, I really don’t think we have the time for a history lesson::

 

::Bumblebee:: Optimus’ vocalizer lowered an octave.

 

::Right-trying to be a team player-sorry. Aside from the name, and who inhabits it, not much. Why?::

 

::According to the old archival records I’ve read, one of the 12 Primes, Lio* Prime founded the planet. He left a guardian by the name of Chela to protect that world in his absence. From what I read about the ‘beastformers’ is that they all are proud of their heritage and rely heavily on their alternate modes::

 

::Should I consider that a strength or weakness on their part?:: Bumblebee moved around a log and lifted his pede so it didn’t break a fallen tree branch nearby.

 

::It all depends on the opponent::

 

::Okay, so if there are only three of them here that means they think they’re only dealing with one Autobot instead of seven::

 

::The probability is high::

 

::And I’m going after them alone because…?::

 

::Here’s what you need to do:: Bumblebee listened inaudibly as Optimus explained most of the plan to him.

* * *

 

“For the last time, Underbite, you’re not going to eat anything that the organic possess,” Steeljaw said in a very tired tone.

 

The antlered robot looked nauseated at the notion. “Blech, why yous wanna eat something offa squishy is beyond me.”

 

“Aw, no fair, you and Thunderhoof ain’t gotta be so cruel. I’m starvin’ here,” Underbite whimpered as he rubbed his chest.

 

Steeljaw rolled his eyes. “Didn’t you just devour half a scrap yard on the way here two groons ago?”

 

“I needed that little snack ta pump my guns up,” the large beastly robot gestured to his arms. “Thundercruncher and Boltsmasher need more juice.”

 

“Heh, no wonder yer so fat with ‘ow much you keep chewin’” Thunderhoof joked.

 

Underbite growled. “What didja jus’ say ta me?”

 

“You ‘eard me, ‘less yer ‘earing is going down too.”

 

Underbite roared and tried to go at Thunderhoof. Steeljaw forced himself between the two and yell at them to stop. While all that was going on Charlie used her uncut nails to pull at the vines that tied the wooden bars together in her cage. The process would have gone a lot quicker if Charlie had brought her pocketknife with her. But she really had no room to complain since her plan was working. All she did for the last ten minutes was give vague answers to Steeljaw’s questions. She thought of stalling as much time as possible to figure a way to free herself and irritating her jailers was just an added bonus.

 

 _Just one more tie and I’m home free_ , the mechanic thought with growing confidence. And with one more tiny snap of a broken string, Charlie waited until she found her opening. 

* * *

 

“Eyy-yo, did we agree ta let de Terminator-bot’s pet go on walks?” Thunderhoof randomly questioned. His query ceased the arguing momentarily.

 

“What? No. Why suggest such a ridiculous thing?” Steeljaw responded, affrontedly.

 

“Well, da little fleshy is gone!” Thunderhoof thumbed at the newly empty cage with a servo.

 

“What!?” Steeljaw shoved Thunderhoof and Underbite away as his optics penetrated the unoccupied enclosure.

 

“Huh, I guess squishes ain’t weak against wood,” Underbite perceived, oblivious to the swelling rage within Steeljaw.

 

The wolf-mode howled as he tore apart the cage in frenzy. Both Thunderhoof and Underbite wisely backed away as their leader unleashed his wrath. When he finished the wolf-mech gave them the deadliest glare he could possibly express.

 

“What are two standing around for? Spread out, NOW!” he continued when they merely stood in front of him. Thunderhoof and Underbite scrambled as they went different directions into the forested mountain. “And don’t come back until you find that little insect.”

 

Steeljaw growled and used his olfactory sensor to trace the organic’s scent. He made sure to also utilize the En-Radiation detector. His pulse-rate lessened when he saw the needle go up.

 

The hunt was on.

* * *

 

Charlie held back a laugh as she watched the three robots panic beneath her. After freeing herself, Charlie realized that there was no possible way she could outrun them. Once she found a tree near her with branches close together for her to climb, the rest was history. The robo-wolf named Steeljaw did not leave right away like Underbite and Thunderhoof did, though. For some reason, he picked up a small device and stared at it for a couple of minutes. Charlie waited on bated breath and stood perfectly still until the robotic wolf left the small encampment. She stayed up in the tree for five minutes before she made her descend. Carefully the mechanic landed to the ground in a crouched position and glanced around before she walked out of the glade and collided right into Steeljaw’s midsection! Charlie yelped in alarm and tried to run but the gray and blue wolf grabbed her by the arm.

 

His animalistic eyes bored into hers. “Did you think my pack and I didn’t smell you up in your little hideaway?” He jerked with his head and moments later Underbite and Thunderhoof appeared from the trees, smirking just as villainously as their leader.

 

“I was wrong to underestimate your intelligence, organic.” Steeljaw narrowed his eyes and warned, “I won’t be making that mistake again.”

 

Charlie cried out when she felt his clawed hand tighten around her arm. “Even if you rip my arm out, I’ll never talk.”

 

“We’s got ways ta get yous ta sqawk,” Thunderhoof promised darkly. He brandished a two-pronged pitchfork of some kind, connected to a foot-long spear.

 

“Where the Pit did you get that?” Steeljaw demanded.

 

“’Member dat ‘con, Swindle? He gave me a good deal for this little baby.” Thunderhoof stroked the device with his hand. “‘Said he found it lyin’ around by dat mad Doc Shockwave’s lab.”

 

“More like he stole it,” Steeljaw retorted.

 

“Check dis out,” Thunderhoof pointed the spear to a tree. He pressed a button on the side and a large bolt of lighting shot through the trunk. Underbite then tapped the wood softly; it split in half a second later. Charlie’s eyes widened as her mouth opened.

 

“An ESD blaster,” Steeljaw grinned. “Most impressive. Knocks out mecha and destroys undergrowth too apparently.”

 

“Betcha like ta know if it effects squishy little organics in any way,” Thunderhoof guessed sadistically. All of their six eyes were on Charlie and that moment she stopped breathing.

 

“I’m giving you until the count of three for you confess,” Steeljaw threatened. He tightened his grip on Charlie’s arm. She started to stop feeling the blood in their circulating and if he squeezed any harder there was a chance the bones might split. “You only have one chance, little organic.”

 

She could scream, she could cry, or she could just give in and yield. Charlie was way in over her head and she knew it. Yet, a part of her refused to surrender. The conscience reminded her of ‘Bee, Optimus Prime and the Autobots. They were brave heroes who risked everything to live another day, even if it meant leaving their home planet. They weren’t being cowardly like the Charlie Watson from ten months ago was. If ‘Bee was in her place (which did happen more than once) he would be defiant to the end. Charlie decided that if this was her swan song she was not going down without a fight.

 

Charlie denied the beastly robots the satisfaction of seeing her in tears. Instead the mechanic glared sharply at the wolf-bot. “My name isn’t squishy or little organic. My name is-”

 

“CHARLIE!” a voice unfamiliar to the mechanic and her three captors shouted through the trees. Under the light of the waning moon stood a twelve-foot-tall robot with yellow plating with black stripes arrived. His blue eyes were narrowed dangerously thin. Both of his hands were replaced with large glowing laser cannons.

 

Steeljaw was the first of the three to recover from the astonishing entrance. “Who are you?”

 

“My name is Bumblebee,” the yellow Camaro proclaimed, his tone was passionately strong. “I am a Calvary Scout for the Autobot Resistance. And _you_ have until the count of three to let the human go or else!”

 

“Does this organic belong to you?” Steeljaw incredulously asked. 

 

Charlie fought against Steeljaw’s hold. “I don’t belong to anyone!”

 

“She’s my friend.” ‘Bee’s glare intensified before he repeated, “Let her go now or I’m counting to three!”

 

“He has the same signature as the fleshie, ‘Jaw,” Thunderhoof said as he pointed that strange device that Charlie still did not recognize on the yellow/black Autobot.

 

“No way.” Underbite called out in protest. “He ain’t the ‘bot that took down the Triple-Changers. He’s too scrawny.”  

 

“Actually I am,” Bumblebee boasted. “I took all of them out by myself and I can do the same to you… One.”

 

“Yous have no chance against all three of us,” Thunderhoof swore.

 

“Two.” ‘Bee pointed cannons directly at Underbite and Thunderhoof.

 

Steeljaw tightened his grip on Charlie’s arm. She visibly winced from the pain that shot through her. “Destroy us and your little pet loses an arm.”

 

Bumblebee raised an eyebrow and shrugged. “Fine. I won’t shoot you guys.” He realigned his cannons and took a shot. The three beast-modes instinctively ducked from the blast. Steeljaw’s hold on Charlie slackened momentarily, giving her the chance to escape.

 

“You missed.” Steeljaw gloated. Seconds later he, Thunderhoof, and Underbite were pushed forcibly down by the fallen debris of tree branches and one log.

  
  
“Wasn’t aiming at you!” Bumblebee jumped over the woodchip pile and grabbed Charlie. He leaped over her kidnappers and transformed into his alt-mode with Charlie behind the wheel. Immediately he punched the accelerator and sped down the mountain, albeit bumpily.

 

“’Bee!” Charlie shouted with joy. “You have no idea how glad I am to see you.”

 

“I’m pretty sure I do,” Bumblebee chuckled. The radio tuner lit on and off every time he uttered a syllable. Charlie placed a hand over the radio and noticed that it wasn’t turned on. No music or voices from a DJ were heard in the speakers.

 

Charlie smiled for the first time in hours. “You’re talking to me with your real voice, aren’t you?” she asked rhetorically because she already knew the answer.

 

“Ratchet patched me up right after you left,” Bumblebee replied.

 

Charlie pouted. “Crap,” she put her face into her hands. “If I had just stayed none of this would be happening.”

 

“It could be worse, Charlie.” Right after he said that they both heard a wolf’s howl.

 

Charlie gave ‘Bee’s dashboard a sour look. “You just had to say that.”

 

There was more howling again and this time three shapes careered out of the trees. Charlie turned around to see where they were. The first of the three that was nearing Bumblebee’s rear end was a large humped deer with a large rack of antlers.

 

“A moose?” Charlie asked in bewilderment. “A moose is chasing us?”

 

“Eyy-yo!” The moose bellowed as he galloped forward.

 

“I think that’s Thunderhoof,” Bumblebee notified in concern. Charlie then saw that right behind the angry moose was a large gray wolf and a bulldog the size of an elephant next to the smaller canine.

 

Charlie gaped from shock. “What the Hell are these robots?”

 

“They’re Eukarians.”

 

“What?”

 

“Cybertronian colonists whose alternate forms are based on Earth animals,” Bumblebee continued, then noted with interest, “I didn’t know there were any left though.”

 

“You can be surprised later, just find a way to shake them off!” Charlie panicked when Thunderhoof the moose almost rammed his horns against ‘Bee’s bumper. Bumblebee swerved slightly to avoid the collision.

 

“Charlie,” ‘Bee called out, grabbing Charlie’s attention. “I have an idea. Do you remember the car chase with that law enforcer you, Memo, and me had?”

 

Charlie racked her brain over how that was comparable to the situation they were currently in but she commented, “Yeah.”

 

“I’m going to try something to get this moose off our tail. I need you to unbuckle your seatbelt and move to the armrest and hold onto the upholstery, got it?”

 

Charlie nodded. She did exactly what Bumblebee instructed and clutched to the leather seats because her life literally depended on it. “What are you planning to do?” she asked.

 

The Camaro revved his engines. “I’m gonna try another little trick I did a while back.” As he said that the car parts shifted until his legs appeared. He twisted his limbs and flipped until he was sideways, his body slipping between two trees with ease. Thunderhoof had no time to react as both of his antlers sunk into the two trunks. He attempted to transform back into his bi-pedal form but was unable to.

 

Charlie laughed after ‘Bee returned into his car mode. “I thought that only worked in cartoons.” Her smile faded when she saw Underbite break down the trees that got in his way and showed no signs of lagging either.

 

“Alright, we’re now on a road near Mount Tamalpias.” Bumblebee reported. “Up ahead the pavement should split in two.”

 

Charlie looked forward and could barely see anything passed ‘Bee’s headlights. In the rearview mirror she saw Underbite steadily catching up with them. Charlie looked around in the car for anything that gave the impression of being a weapon. “Don’t you have any guns or some bomb to blow him up?”

 

‘Bee sighed in frustration. “No, with his thick plating that’ll just piss him off.”

 

Right as Charlie straightened herself she saw Underbite running right next to driver’s side. He snarled wildly at them as he elbowed the door.

 

Charlie screamed. “He’s trying to push us off the road. ‘Bee you have to try and shoot him!”

 

“We’re going too fast!” the scout exclaimed. “If I try to transform at this speed my equilibrium sensors won’t respond quick enough and I’ll skid and you’ll get hurt.”

 

“Ain’t thatta shame,” Underbite overheard them and opened his jaws. Charlie became terrified. She threw the only object she could find and flung her plastic water bottle at Underbite. He accidently ate it and suddenly his face screwed up in pain and he decelerated.

 

“What did you do to him?” ‘Bee asked in amazement.

 

Charlie was just as baffled. “All I did was throw my water bottle at ‘im.”

* * *

 

Underbite moaned as he tried in vain to rub away the discomfort from his fuel tank.

 

“You mean to tell me that the container you ate was made from plastic?” Steeljaw growled as he paced on both fours.

 

“I thought it was glass,” Underbite whimpered atop the asphalt.

 

“How waz I ‘posed ta know chasin’ ‘dem through da trees waz a bad idea?” Thunderhoof grumbled as he continued to pick tree bark off his antlers.

 

Steeljaw’s optics twitched before he exploded. “I’M LOSING MY PATIENCE! Frag Starscream’s promise, we’re hunting those little oil stains and kill them!”

* * *

 

“You were still carrying that around?” Bumblebee asked in disbelief as he drove him and Charlie further down the road.

 

Charlie became defensive. “I flattened it and put it in my pocket earlier, okay?”

 

“Alright, calm down.” ‘Bee vocalizer spoke soothingly. “Let’s try to stay focused. We took down two of Steeljaw’s pack,” he recapped as he turned his wheels against a curve.

 

“Which leaves-” Charlie began to say but was interrupted when the wolf-mech in questioned landed on ‘Bee’s hood.

 

“Did you think you could out run me?!” Steeljaw roared.

 

Charlie tried to turn the wheel to skew in order to force Steeljaw off but Bumblebee’s tires were stuck somehow and he jerked to the right. The Camaro drove over a gravel pathway and crashed through a gate covered with chain-linked wiring. Above ‘Bee and Charlie, Steeljaw brandished the two-pronged weapon and shoved it into the roof. Both ‘Bee and Charlie cried out in pain and the scout forcibly reverted out of his alt-mode. Bumblebee wrapped his arms protectively around Charlie as they rolled into a junkyard. Towering above the two were stacks of old, rusted cars and other unspecified trash. ‘Bee was sprawled with his faceplate facing the sky. His back plating felt sore from the dent Steeljaw made and he could barely move his digits. On his chest Charlie groaned before she rushed over to where his helm was and examined to see if he was damaged externally. ‘Bee attempted to give her a thumb’s up but his servo helplessly flopped back to the dirt.

 

Steeljaw ex-vented as he lounged on an old rusted red truck, watching the pathetic display. “And here I thought a fight with an Autobot would’ve been more exciting. I’m honestly disappointed.” Steeljaw frowned and shook his helm in dissatisfaction. At the other two ends of the environment Underbite and Thunderhoof appeared.

 

“’Bee,” Charlie cried out as she tried in vain to press him back up.

 

“Do what you want with me,” the yellow Camaro could barely move but still pleaded with Steeljaw, “But please, leave the girl alone.”

 

Steeljaw scoffed at the appeal. “I don’t think you’re in a position to make demands,” he laughed callously at his accidental pun. “Word of advice, a lone wolf should never confront a pack.”

 

Bumblebee struggled as he lifted his helm up. Rather than appearing scared, Bumblebee’s optics gleamed boldly. “Good thing I’m not alone then.”

 

TSCHE-chu-chu-chu-TSCHE!

 

Steeljaw fell ungraciously from the eighteen-wheeler as it and five other seemingly dilapidated automobiles transformed into Jazz, Arcee, Ironhide, Ultra Magnus, Wheeljack, and …

 

“Optimus,” Thunderhoof whispered, his optics widening in fear. Steeljaw’s jaw dropped.  “Prime,” he managed to choke out.

 

Underbite remained speechless due to fright. He started to flee but Optimus and Magnus grabbed him effortlessly by the bulldog’s neck guard. While still holding the big beastformer, the Autobots’ leader locked optics with Steeljaw. “Taking the child was a bad move,”** he expounded in a dangerously low tone.  

 

Steeljaw reseted his vocalizer and tried to put on a cold front. “We are very important members of the Decepticon army," he blatantly lied. "If you do anything to us, they’ll know.”

 

Optimus chuckled humorlessly, “That’s amusing because I don’t think you’re in a position to make demands.”

 

The other Autobots laughed in equal mirth.

 

“Ironhide, Jazz,” the Autobots’ leader ordered, “Relive them of there weapons and detain the other two Eukarians.”

 

“Gimme that,” Jazz ordered Thunderhoof as he pulled a small rectangular device from the moose-mech. Wheeljack took the pronged ESD weapon from Steeljaw and Arcee placed Stasis cuffs onto the wolf. Jazz and Wheeljack arrested the remaining pack members as well.

 

“’Bee,” Charlie gave her friend a calculating look. “Did you know this ambush was going to happen?”

 

Bumblebee shrugged before he admitted sheepishly, “Yes.”

 

Charlie frowned. “Then why did you keep that tiny little bit of information from me?”

 

Bumblebee grunted as he pushed himself slowly up. “There wasn’t enough time. And I only knew half of what the plan was while I was rescuing you. Optimus sent me the last part right as Steeljaw jumped on my hood.”

 

“That explains why you drove us into a junk yard,” Charlie sighed.

 

Optimus approached Steeljaw after Magnus, Ironhide, and Jazz placed Stasis cuffs on Underbite and Thunderhoof respectfully. “You shall explain to us every detail as to why you are on this planet,” Optimus stated adamantly. “And do tell us why would Decepticons send civilians to do their own job as you clearly aren’t Decepticons.”

 

All Steeljaw could do was sit there rigidly as everything he planned fell apart right before his very optics.

 

Bumblebee noticed Charlie was nodding off. He strenuously turned back into his alternate-mode around the mechanic and allowed her to recharge on the interior padding.

 

“It’s okay, Charlie. I won’t let Steeljaw near you ever again,” Bumblebee swore softly. _I’ll not let anything bad happen to you as long as my Spark pulses._

 

**End of Chapter 4**

 

* * *

 **Q-A:** Okay, ending the chapter with a Charliebee moment should pacify all the angry readers who are probably still mad that ‘Bee didn’t roast Steeljaw and his gang alive. (Hopefully I won’t get any death threats for implying that Mirage is dead in this fanfic either.)

Look, I know that ‘Bee did kill Blitz, Drop, and Shatter in the movie but my personal headcanon for why he did is because he had no other way to apprehend them (as the Autobots clearly do in this story) and he had no other option but to destroy them. The Autobots are supposed to be the good guys in this and Steeljaw and his pack need to face justice, once the war is over, of course. I hope you all are fine with how I handled them in this and how their alternate forms look. I personally believe Thunderhoof’s true form is a moose from Brooklyn, I don’t care what anyone else says. 

I’m sorry that Mirage is not alive in this story, but the reason I took him out is solely on his invisibility powers. I think that his camouflage abilities in the G1 cartoon were a power that I felt if used a lot more (i.e. intelligently) the war would’ve ended sooner. So, once again I didn’t get rid of Mirage because I don’t like him (really, I don’t hate the guy) but only because of his power.

 

References:

Most of Optimus’ lectures/speeches are paraphrased from _Transformers: Prime_. (OP from TFP is Best Dad, hands down. Fight me.)

*Lio Prime is based on Lio Convoy/Leo Prime from _Beast Wars II: Super Lifeform Transformers._ (Sorry for those of you who like Onyx Prime, but I do not think I am capable of including his “backstory” into this fanfic coherently so I just went and created an OC that’s technically not made up, kinda?)

**The first line Optimus said to Steeljaw is based on the one he said to Sector 7 when they kidnapped Sam and (the real protagonist) Mikaela in the ’07 _Transformers_ movie. (One of the few moments in the film that I unironically like).

 

Song Used:

Chatper title: Hungry Like The Wolf by Duran Duran (Could’ve I picked a more obvious song in a chapter that stared Steeljaw as the main antagonist? XD. I love the 80s and its music, have I not said that enough yet?)

 

Keep On Writin’ and Rockin’

 

 


	6. Magic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s The Riding A Sunset Drinking Game! Take a shot every time the word friend/friendship/friends or another abbreviation of the word shows up in this chapter.

 

 **Q-A:** I promise this story isn’t turning into a fantasy because of the title of this chapter (yet?). Anyway I need to tell you guys that in a few weeks I’ll be flying up to Baltimore to celebrate my aunt’s birthday. It’ll be over the weekend of March 22nd-25thI’m sorry if this is sudden for any of you but I wanted to let you know once I knew for sure when the date was. I’ll be uploading/updating chapters normally until then.

 

 ** _Disclaimer:_** I do not own  _The Transformers._ It solely belongs to  _Hasbro_ and  _Paramount_. The songs referenced in this chapter belong to their respected producers/singers.

 

 **Warnings** for this chapter are:

swearing, mentions of war, death, torture, and OOC moments ahead.

 

“Through every turn I'll be near you

I'll come anytime you call

I'll catch you when you fall

I'll be guiding you”

 - “Magic” by Oliva Newton-John

* * *

 

Location: Junkyard, 30 miles north of Brighton Falls, CA. Date: June 6, 1988

 

“Has there been any signs of furtherance, Jazz?” Optimus Prime questioned his Spec Ops after he emerged from the cell.

 

The Porsche shook his helm. “The wolf-boss says he ain’t willing ta comply unless you talk to ‘im.”

 

“I suppose givin’ them a taste of their own medicine didn’t help,” Ironhide scrutinized. He stared at the cell with a great level of disgust.

 

 Once more Jazz responded with a no. “I ain’t done nothin’ to them. They’re just a buncha confused, misguided punks that feel lost in the world. Same old, same old.”

 

“If you call glory-seekin’ psychos who snatch little gals fer a tacky badge ‘misguided punks’ then sure, why not?” Ironhide muttered sardonically.

 

Optimus entered the makeshift jail cell constructed out of old car frames. Within, Ultra Magnus guarded the beastformer Steeljaw. His two accomplices had been detained in stasis pods by that point in time. Magnus formally saluted the Prime when he passed through the threshold. The Autobots’ leader exchanged a stare with the SIC and prisoner before he said to Magnus, “Leave us.”

 

“Sir,” Magnus became at ease and exited the open-roofed chamber. Optimus drew a large waste receptacle brimful of metal and trash. He sat on it and gazed at the wolf-mech.

 

After a klik Optimus asked, “Shall I go first or would you prefer to speak your processor before I do?”

 

“Cut the complacencies, Prime and tell me, wha-what are you doing?” Steeljaw’s optics widened with fear as he saw Optimus move his arm behind his red and blue frame.

 

Optimus revealed a small cube filled with blue liquid. He brought the fuel forward until it was close to Steeljaw’s helm.

 

“What is that?” the robotic wolf demanded.

 

“Energon,” Optimus answered.

 

“What’s in it?” From his tone, Optimus speculated that Steeljaw would’ve jumped back if he was not cuffed.

 

Optimus tilted his helm. “The blood of Primus.”

 

Steeljaw stared skeptically at the offered drink.

 

The Prime ex-vented. “It was a obstinate challenge to ensure it was transported safely all the way from Cybertron.” At least that is what Ratchet complained to him a Stellar-cycle ago.

 

“I’m not thirsty.” Steeljaw claimed.

 

“Well, you still need to be on a full tank before you are placed in a stasis pod,” Optimus clarified.

 

“And what? Shoot my pack and I out into space for you and your fellow radicals to use as target practice?”

 

Optimus’ optical ridges rose in surprise. “Whatever gave you an implication that we would carry such an action towards you?”

 

“That’s the common courtesy all of you Functionist-loving mecha have bestowed upon my people, long before you dragged us all into your war,” Steeljaw spat out.

 

Optimus had been reading Steeljaw’s sparkpulse long before the integration had commenced. He was shocked to find how angry the young-mech was but that he sincerely believed the words he spoke against the Autobots were absolutely true. The Freightliner knew the Decepticons had been using propaganda to sway the Cybertronian populace but he never imagined it was this serious.

 

“I promise you that no single Autobot practices a caste segregation of any kind,” Optimus said, his voice sober. “We believe that freedom is the right of all sentient beings.”

 

“Then where’re the Eukarians in your rebellion?” Steeljaw accused.

 

Optimus ex-vented, this time wearily before he revealed, “The reason no Eukarians refugees and their descendants are comprised within the Autobot Resistance is because I did not want them to suffer more in a war that was our own doing and not theirs.”

 

“We were involved in your war the minute your missiles strayed and destroyed our homes in Valvolux,” Steeljaw countered, he glowered angrily at the Prime.

 

“We weren’t aware that the city’s inhabitants hadn’t been completely evacuated at that time. Before the first cannon fired,” Optimus admitted.

 

“You expect me to believe that?” Steeljaw scoffed. “Why should I listen to single thing you’re prattling to me right now?

 

“You vehemently insist that the Decepticons will make you one of them in spite of the heavy evidence suggesting against the notion.”

 

Optimus could tell from the wolf-mech’s optics that he was starting to become dubious. It would take a long time to change Steeljaw’s outlook, if there was still a chance to do so. “At least they’re fighting for a free Cybertron long before you supposedly were.”

 

Perhaps Optimus was too optimistic for his own good. He tried a different approach,

“It is not about who began this war, all that matters is why it is continuing and what each side is fighting for. They also bombed your home and if I’m not mistaken, they intended to eradicate all of the Eukarians residing.”

 

Steeljaw emitted a dismissive snort.

 

“You must understand that if you somehow found a way off this planet you would be returning to a world where a majority of the populace is led by a mech who desires to see your people wiped out.”

 

The wolf-mech was not half-listening anymore as he was clearly processing what Optimus was telling him.

 

“Think not of yourself but of your team. Do you truly wish for their demise or prefer to stay as our prisoners here where we shall guarantee your safety.”

 

The Prime saw that Steeljaw was no longer self-assured as before. Optimus could vaguely feel the wolf-mech’s field release the feelings of _confusion/uncertainty/FEAR!_ The Eukarian was frightened most of all, whether for himself or for his two associates, Optimus chose not to venture in guessing.

 

“You expect something in return though.” Steeljaw rationalized a klik later. “An exchange?” 

 Optimus leaned forward until he and Steeljaw were staring optic-to-optic to each other. “Name of the Decepticon who hired you to hunt my scout and do they know of the Autobots’ current whereabouts?”

* * *

 

Charlie could hardly remember the last time she slept unpleasantly. She has had trouble sleeping in the past whether because of a late night working on the Corvette or nightmares involving her father’s death. This time though it was a physical issue because she felt a stick of some kind pressed against her left hip. She attempted to move away from the stick but ended up hitting her head against a door. Wearily, she opened her eyes by a crack and she saw light hitting through the car door window by her feet. When she lifted her head the sounds of music began to play from the radio.

 

_“Here comes the sun (doo doo doo doo), here comes the sun and I say it’s all right.”_

Charlie was more awake now as she smiled and shook her head once in amusement. “I’m half convinced that Ron was right to call you a Beatles fan.”

 

“It was the only song I could find at the moment,” Bumblebee denied.

 

The mechanic rolled her eyes, not believing a word. “Yeah sure.”

 

“No, it’s true. I even tried to look for The Smiths but settled to find anything more appropriate to wake you up.”

 

Charlie breathed out a sigh and she pushed herself up. “Yeah, well after last night I don’t think loud music in the morning is a good idea…. oh, no last night!"

 

‘Bee made a buzzing noise of worry. “Charlie?”

 

“We promised my mom that I’d be gone for a day. I’m pretty sure we broke curfew.”

 

“I couldn’t drive you home with you recharging at the wheel,” ‘Bee said and added, “And you were so tired I didn’t want to disturb you anyway.”

 

Charlie patted ‘Bee’s steering wheel. “I’m not mad at you ‘Bee. I’m just worried what my mom is going to think when we get back home.” She looked into the rearview mirror and groaned at the scratches on her arms and face. The mechanic tried to slump but recoiled after she felt a wave of pain from her right arm.

 

“Charlie, are you okay?”

 

“It’s my arm,” Charlie tentatively poked it with a finger and winced from the pain. “I can’t tell if it’s a bruise or something else. I seriously hope it’s not something else.” She opened the driver’s side door and her face scrunched up as she discovered how sore her entire body was feeling.

 

Bumblebee immediately transformed out of his alt-mode and hovered by Charlie. “Steady, we’ll get you back to base and have Ratchet look at you.”

 

“There’s no need.” Ratchet’s voice was heard in the distance, “I’m already here.”

 

Ratchet and Brawn drove through the junkyard in their ambulance and Land Rover forms respectfully until they reached the center where Charlie, ‘Bee, Arcee, and Wheeljack were located. The two newcomers shifted into their robot bodies after the parked. Ultra Magnus was the first to great them. By greeting, that meant criticize them for breaking protocol. “Ratchet, Brawn. Optimus Prime instructed you two to remain at base,” he reprimanded.

 

Ratchet rubbed his forehead and replied, “We did at first but we noticed some humans were a short distance where our base was. Brawn and I spent the last three breems packing everything up and get the pit out of there before we were spotted.”

 

Brawn supported the medic’s statement. “What Ratch (“My slaggin’ name isn’t Ratch, damn it.”) said is true. A couple of human law enforcers exclusive to the park area were getting to close for comfort at the base.”

 

“You couldn’t have carried all of the supplies by yourselves,” Arcee observed, her tone laced with worry.

 

“We did trips,” Ratchet explained.

 

“Ratchet did trips but I didn’t have to,” Brawn added rather smugly. The medic whacked him with a wrench in retaliation. Charlie hid a laugh while ‘Bee shook his head in glee.

 

“And where’s the rest of the stuff at?” Wheeljack asked. “You couldn’t possibly have carried it all in your Subspaces.”

 

Ratchet created a holographic map. “There were these rectangular signs made of wood nearby that we concealed the remaining supplies behind them.”

 

“A billboard?” Charlie suggested.

 

“Is that what they’re called?” Brawn cocked his head. Charlie nodded.

 

Ratchet seemed to decide that his and Brawn’s grilling was over and he approached the human girl. He kneeled and opened his palm to the ground. “I’ll need you close to me as possible to do an accurate examination of your body and functions. I promise it will be quick and not too painless if you cooperate.”

 

Charlie glanced over at ‘Bee to see if she should trust the medic.

 

‘Bee nodded. “It’s okay,” he said reassuringly.

 

Charlie slowly came near Ratchet’s hand and sat on it. Carefully, the medic lifted her up with both hands as be commenced a thorough scan of her.

 

 _Hope it’s nothing too serious_ , Charlie thought as she waiting for the final verdict. 

* * *

 

“So, yer jus’ takin’ the word from that two-faceplated crook?” Ironhide asked his old friend. Optimus had recently exited the cell after they both assisted Magnus with locking up Steeljaw inside a pod. The SIC then updated them on the current whereabouts of Ratchet and Brawn. He also told them how the other two ‘bots had to vacate the Temp-base after some humans started moseying around. Good riddance, Ironhide thought later. He was getting tired of picking sap off of his seams.

 

“The Eukarian had no reason to fabricate what he told me,” Optimus reasoned, unknowingly pushing Ironhide away from his prior processing.

 

Ironhide was unconvinced. “He’s a razor snake in the grass if ya ask me. That so-called plan just sounds like scrap. Who’d come up with somethin’ so stupid?”

 

“The plan was Starscream’s,” Optimus revealed, his tone drier than the Rust Sea. Ironhide held a look of surprise before he said,  “Well, why didn’t ya say so in the first place? Any plan by Screamer always fails. The mech is such a failure that if he planned ta fall straight to the ground he’d still miss.”

 

He and Optimus shared a laugh but were then interrupted when Ratchet appeared.

 

“Optimus, there’s something I need to speak with you, privately.” The medic glanced over at Ironhide’s direction. The Weapons Specialist felt put off at first but a weighty look from Prime persuaded him otherwise.

 

Ironhide only heard Optimus say, “What appears to be the issue, Ratchet?” before he left.

* * *

 

“So, did Ratchet give you a clean bill of health?” Bumblebee asked Charlie after the medic in question left. The two of them walked through the junkyard after Jazz gave them the okay. Neither of them had any real idea of where they wanted to go; they just wanted to get away from the adults and their nosy tendencies. Charlie knew they meant well but she had not spent much time alone with her friend since they reunited.

 

“Yeah,” Charlie straightened her clothes and continued, “My right arm just has a bruise. The pain will wear off in a few days, Ratchet said I should compress it with something cold when I get home.” She shook her head in amusement. “Like I didn’t already know that from my mom.”

 

“And the cuts?” ‘Bee gazed worriedly at the small scratches on her face.

 

“They’re shallow. I won’t get an infection from them,” Charlie guaranteed.

 

Bumblebee sighed in relief. “I’d hate for you to catch a virus of some kind… is something wrong, Charlie?” he raised an eyebrow after he noticed the mechanic was looking at him.

 

Charlie apologized, “Sorry, I was just thinking about your new voice.”

 

“Yeah, we already addressed that I got my voice fixed,” ‘Bee pointed out.

 

“We were busy driving for our lives to really talk about it,” Charlie countered back.

 

He chuckled in embarrassment. “Right,” the yellow Camaro’s antennae droop, as he appeared thoughtful about something. “Does it sound strange to you?”

 

Charlie quickly responded, “No. I like it.”

 

“It doesn’t sound weird?” ‘Bee's voice was unsure.

 

“Seriously, it’s sick. You sound like you’d be my age, which I think is pretty great.”

 

Bumblebee seemed to be chewing over what Charlie said his eyes were not as dimmed as before. “So, getting sick isn’t the same on your planet like it is on mine?”

 

Charlie tried not to laugh but couldn’t help it. “No, sorry. It’s another way of saying ‘that’s cool’ or ‘totally rad.’”

 

The yellow scout was silent for a moment before he sighed. “I don’t think I completely understand but I’ll take it as a compliment.”

 

Charlie gave her friend a sympathetic look. “You’ll get the hang of it.” She smiled when an idea came to her. “I can give you lessons on how teens talk later.”

 

“When would that be? The Autobots and I are supposed to go look for a permanent base soon.”

 

“Yeah, but when you do you can drive back to my home and tell me where you all are. Once I finally fix up my Corvette again I can visit you any time,” Charlie said, already in love with the concept. Suddenly the Camaro placed a hand on her left shoulder.

 

“’Bee? What’s up?”

 

Bumblebee sighed and stared seriously at the girl. “Charlie, we need to talk.”

* * *

 

Optimus stood in shock as he let the information Ratchet divulge wash over his cerebral processor. “This is unexpected.”

 

Ratchet nodded stiffly. “That’s one way of putting it. I can also say that it puts a metaphorical wrench in our plans.”

 

“We are now accountable for a human’s life,” Optimus’ vocalizer rumbled with worry. “Charlie Watson must know about this sooner rather than later.”

 

“I couldn’t agree more. I also suspect that Bumblebee will need to hear about all of this.”

 

Optimus scanned the surroundings. “Do you know where they have wandered off to?”

 

Ratchet opened his intake to answer when-

 

“I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU!”

 

The medic pointed towards the south side of the scrap yard. “Found them.”

 

Optimus moved forward and Ratchet followed. They arrived at the aforementioned location and found the youngest Autobot and their human ally in a heated quarrel.

 

Ms. Watson crossed her arms and paced, giving her friend an angry look. “After everything we’ve been through-”

 

“No, Charlie it’s not what you think-” Bumblebee attempted to say but the human cut him off.

 

“Oh, really? So you’re not telling me you want to ditch me the first chance you get?”

 

“That’s not at all what I said. You’re putting words into my intake valve.”

 

Ms. Watson ceased pacing and glowered at Bumblebee. “Then change your mind,” she demanded.

 

Bumblebee shook his helm. “I _won’t_.”

 

Optimus was at a loss on how to best handle the situation before it could escalate to disaster. He needed to know when would be proper to chime in.

 

::Think carefully over the glyphs you chose to say:: Ratchet warned the Autobots’ leader.

 

Optimus opted to reset his vocalizer and almost immediately the scout and human were silenced. “You two appear to be in disarray.” 

 

Ratchet slapped his helm. ::That’s not what I meant by being careful::

 

“Please do tell what you are arguing over.”

 

Both Bumblebee and Ms. Watson exchanged disgruntled looks at each other.

 

::Oh, now you’re only making it worse!::

 

“You see she was-”

 

“’Bee started crazy talkin’ when he said-”

 

“-I want to protect her and-”

 

Ratchet turned on his ambulance siren on the highest volume. The other three winced from the noise. The medic shut it off a nano-klik later.

 

“Optimus was asking you a question. If you two wish to bicker, do it on your own time and not waste the Prime’s.” When neither of them altered their postures Ratchet then threatened, “If you two start arguing again I’ll put both of you on oil bucket detailing duty for a whole Earth-month.”

 

“Is that bad?” the human femm asked.

 

Optimus saw the gleam in his friend’s optic. “Oh~ yes it is. ‘Very messy and hard to wash off.” A part of him knew Ratchet was exaggerating but he did enjoy watching the ostentatious fashion he was exhibiting. “Promise you’ll both behave? ”

 

That scared them straight as both Bumblebee and Charlie nodded hastily. The FL86 Freightliner reset his vocalizer, that time to hide a chortle. “You may explain yourselves,” Optimus announced.

 

“Okay,” Ms. Watson began. “’Bee was saying that after you all find your hidden base that he and I shouldn’t see each other anymore. It’s like after everything we’ve been through means nothing to him.

 

“But you-” Bumblebee started to say until a strict stare from Ratchet quieted him.

 

“Continue,” Optimus told the human.

 

“I want to help you guys,” Ms. Watson further explained. “But ‘Bee says he doesn’t want me to get hurt, which yeah I get but you don’t have anyone else here that’s human to help understand Earth better. I don’t know everything about it but I still don’t want to sit around when I know… my calling is with you,” she finished breathlessly as though she came to a realization.

 

“Bumblebee,” Optimus addressed the yellow scout. “Your turn.”

 

“Charlie has no idea of the danger that we face,” Bumblebee said forthrightly. “Steeljaw and his pack are pains in the afts compared to real Decepticons. Shatter and Dropkick nearly killed her when I was fighting them. I know I promised to keep you safe, Charlie, but the only way I can succeed in that is staying far away from you. You even told me to leave the last time we said goodbye.”

 

“I didn’t realize how much I’d miss you,” Ms. Watson lamented bitterly. “I want us to be a team from now on.”

 

“You’re so stubborn,” Bumblebee ex-vented in frustration.

 

“Well, you’re being unreasonable,” the human, retorted.

 

“Ms. Watson-” Optimus started.

 

“You can just call me Charlie, it’s fine,” the mechanic interjected, her tone flat.

 

“Charlie,” Optimus corrected himself. “What Bumblebee says is true. We may not always act like it but we are soldiers. We have been trained to fight and kill when absolutely necessary. We try to avoid getting civilians caught in the crossfire of our battles against the Decepticons. Civilians like you.”

 

Charlie bit her lip as she stared at the ground.

 

“Bumblebee,” Optimus reached out directly to the Camaro. “You should not decide for Charlie what is best for her. She has the right to make her own choices. Going against her consent isn’t fair for both of you.” He frowned when a memory file popped up in his processor. “I too had a meaningful friendship once.

 

“We had disagreements over many issues and instead of making amends we let the grudge between us fester until all we felt was hate between us. Please learn from the mistakes you made instead of running away from them like I have done. You need to decide if your mistakes are more important than the camaraderie you have between yourselves.”

 

Ratchet then added, “Don’t simply yell at each other if you have a disagreement. Communication is important in every relationship. Both platonic and romantic ones.”

 

“Charlie,” Bumblebee crouched until he was optic-level with the human. “I wasn’t trying to undermine you before. I just want to protect you.”

 

The side of Charlie’s mouth tugged as a small smile began to form. “’Bee, I’m never going to be safe. The world outside of your war is still dangerous. The only way I could genuinely be safe if I was locked away in a bunker for the rest of my life. Which, I don’t want to happen to me because I would die of boredom or go mad, whatever comes first.”

 

“That does sound like an awful way to go,” Bumblebee lightly jested.

 

“I’m being serious here,” Charlie insisted though that did not prevent a small giggle. Her mien became calm again. “I understand why you’re worried but don’t be. I’ll stay clear of when you guys have to fight but I want to be there anyway to help if you need it. Plus, I’m the only human you and the Autobots know so you need all the help you can get.”

 

“You’re right,” Bumblebee admitted. “I’m sorry for not hearing you out earlier.”

 

“And I’m sorry too,” Charlie said. “I don’t want to get involved with the fights you’ll end up in but that doesn’t mean I want to stop being friends with you over that.”

 

Bumblebee shook his helm. “I don’t want to end our friendship. It’s hard though, for me because I keep worrying that something bad will happen and I’ll lose one of the few friends I have on this planet.”

 

"You've got me," Charlie whispered. Her hands were placed firmly on both sides of the yellow 'bot's helm. Her brown eyes firmly locked onto his blue optics. "And I'm not going anywhere."

 

“Neither am I,” Bumblebee answered slowly but sincerely. “I will never leave you again.”

 

“Charlie,” Optimus came near the human and smaller robot. “Bumblebee, I am proud of you both for making amends. You both have come a long way since your reunion. I must be honest with you, Bumblebee. Even if you did forbid Charlie from remaining in contact with us I would have discouraged your decision. It is imperative that we are near her.”

 

Bumblebee and Charlie traded looks with one another before they said bluntly, “What?”

 

“Look,” Ratchet stood beside Optimus, his tone blunt. “We’re not doing this because we are charmed by your admittedly adorable friendship. It’s a much more serious matter I’m afraid.”

 

“Then what is it?” Charlie asked.

 

“It’s something we’ll need to speak with the rest of the Autobots together,” Optimus answered. “They need to hear about what Ratchet has discovered. Rest assured, it is nothing fatal.”

 

“Well, doesn’t that sound ominous,” Bumblebee commented.

 

“Just get a move on already.” Ratchet commanded. “Optimus will send a message to the others to meet up at the central hub of this area. Everything will be explained once everyone has gathered.

 

Charlie and Bumblebee head back to the heart of the junkyard. Ratchet started to follow them but Optimus stopped him.  

 

“‘Admittedly adorable friendship?’” He quoted with enjoyment laced in his tone.

 

Ratchet appeared flustered before saying indignantly, “I was simply rephrasing what several of the others already have said.”

 

Optimus' laughter was warm and light. “Whatever you say, Ratchet.”

* * *

 

Charlie stood between Bumblebee and Jazz as the others slowly assemble into the outdoor ring.

 

The Spec Ops leaned in until he was within earshot of Charlie and ‘Bee. “So Lil’ Lady, ‘Bee, ya’ll have any idea why were all out here?”

 

“Optimus and Ratchet have something they want to tell us,” ‘Bee echoed.

 

“And it might have something to do with me,” Charlie crossed her arms and she looked to the ground with worry.

 

‘Bee gently patted her back in comfort. “They said it’s nothing fatal.”

 

“That’s still not keeping me chilled, funny enough.”

 

Jazz frowned at Charlie’s statement. “But it ain’t that cool out.”

 

“Chilled is Earth lingo for remaining calm,” Bumblebee elaborated. “Charlie’s just started teaching me,” he further added.

 

 “Ah.” Jazz bobbed his head in understanding.

 

Optimus Prime and Ratchet eventually arrived at the scene. When they showed up the ongoing chitchat silenced.

 

Ratchet cleared his throat. “Now, that your all here I have something that needs to be discussed. It concerns our new friend and more importantly tell you all why the Eukarian beastformers found her instead of us.”

 

Charlie noticed the Autobots muttered quietly at the news before Optimus motioned them to remain quiet.

 

“While I was running a diagnostic on Charlie, I noticed a particular reading on her that concerned me because it was something that is normally found on Cybertronians.” Out his Subspace, Ratchet held out the rectangular device with a metal receiver at the top.

 

“That’s the same gadget Steeljaw used on me,” Charlie whispered to ‘Bee.

 

“This device was confiscated by Wheeljack and Jazz," Ratchet explained. "It uses a frequency to detect any trace of Energon Radiation within a twenty meter distance.”

 

The Autobots started to mutter amongst themselves again, sounding more anxious than before. Charlie was unsure how she felt about seeing their usually confident attitudes doing a one-eighty. She also had trouble grasping what Ratchet had just said.

 

Charlie raised her hand and waved it to get the medic’s attention. “What’s Energon Radiation?” She heard the words before (and used to describe different objects) but never associated one another.

 

“You understand how a human’s digestive system works, is that correct?” Ratchet asked.

 

“I do,” Charlie took two years of Health and lived with a nurse. She was well aware of how a human body functioned.

 

“For those of us who might need a remembrance humans expel the excess waste from their bodies after they consume the nutrients they need to survive.”

 

“We know,” Ironhide shuddered. “Ya don’t need ta remind us.”

 

“We all know, please for the love of Primus, don’t mention it again,” Wheejack pleaded. The rest of the Autobots looked just as uncomfortable as the inventor. Even Optimus Prime.

 

Charlie rolled her eyes at how buggin’ everyone was acting. _I bet a robot’s anatomy has some weird quirks about it too._

 

Ratchet chose to ignore everyone’s complaining and continued, “To answer your question Charlie, a Cybertronian’s system breaks down the Energon we consume as it flows around the body to power and sustain us. Our bodies emit the castoff Energon through our plating in a form of radiation. Just like all forms of radioactive material it can spread around until it gets absorbed. Charlie, ever since you have been in contact with Bumblebee your body has been absorbing Energon Radiation.”

 

Charlie thought her heart had stopped. “Is it harmful to humans? Am I going to get sick?”

 

Ratchet shook his head rapidly. “No. No! Energon Radiation or En-Radiation is benign to organic life. In all honesty En-Radiation is more deadly to our kind than yours. Too much of it can cause our circuits to overload and shut down into Stasis Lock.”

 

“How much of the En-Rad is on her, Ratchet?” Bumblebee asked.

 

“From what I’ve read, enough for her to be mistaken for a Cybertronian,” Ratchet answered, gravely.

 

The heavy chatter commenced once more.

 

Charlie slumped slightly against ‘Bee’s leg. “That’s how Steeljaw and his gang discovered me. They thought I was one of you.”  

 

“Everybot please settle down,” Optimus appealed. “This new information is daunting to say the least. While we cannot deny nor confirm just how far the Decepticons have advanced this new technology there is the serious matter of how the Engergon Radiation has turned humans into targets. It stands to reason that our next move is to protect the humans that have been exposed to the radiation.”

 

“Can’t we just leave Earth?” Brawn suggested. “The radiation should go away if we stayed away, wouldn’t it?”

 

Charlie and ‘Bee both shared worried expressions.

 

“Yes,” Ratchet spoke carefully, “But I’m afraid the radiation on Charlie is high enough that it would take an extremely long time for it to completely disappear.”

 

“How long is that?” Charlie glanced at her body.

 

Ratchet sighed. “About five vorns.”

 

Brawn shrugged. “That’s not that long.”

 

“A vorn equals to eighty-three Earth years.”

 

Brawn’s shoulders slumped. “Oh.”

 

 _Four hundred and fifteen years?_ Charlie did the math in her head, beyond astonished.

 

Charlie gasped. “So I’ll be long dead before this stuff on me is gone? What about my family? My mom has driven in ‘Bee.” Her eyes widened in shock after she realized, “My friend Memo. He was with ‘Bee almost as long as me.”

 

“It’s just as Prime says,” Jazz soothed. “We’ll be here ta protect y’all from any Decepticons that come here.”

 

“That means we’ll need to set a base near Charlie’s city,” Arcee commented.

 

Ultra Magnus responded with apprehension, “Does that seem like a wise choice? We cannot let the humans know we are here.”

 

“There’s not really any big enough hiding spots in Brighton for us,” Bumblebee admitted sadly.

 

“Unless,” Jazz placed a hand under his chin in thought, “there is somewhere we _can_ go. A place that is isolated, far enough from pryin’ eyes and human activity is a definite no.”

 

“Jazz, what do you have in mind?” Optimus asked. All eyes were then laid on the Porsche.

 

The Spec Ops cleared his throat before he talked. “Okay, so back when Lil ‘Bee was goin’ to get Charlie I noticed somethin’ through my field. It felt big and metallic. Bigger than a ‘bot but smaller than a cyberformed city. I wished I could describe it better, if only I had some pics,” Jazz sighed dramatically. “Oh wait, I do!” He projected a large image over a hologram, which revealed large cemented ground with small poles sticking out. In the background stood a rectangular wall almost as large and wide as the area itself.

 

“I think I know that place,” Charlie said as the memories came to her. “It’s an old drive-in movie theater. It’s been closed down since my parents were in high school.”

 

Optimus placed his hands behind his back and announced, “It appears that some reconnaissance is in order. Autobots, we must gather up our supplies and prepare to roll out.”

 

The Autobots followed orders and readied themselves to leave.

 

“Bumblebee,” Optimus stopped the yellow ‘bot. “While Jazz leads the remainder of us to this, _drive-in_ ,” he spelt out the word slowly, possibly because it was the first time he ever said it, “you will escort Charlie back to her home. Bring her and her clan to our location. The other Watsons will need to be addressed of the situation promptly.”

 

After Optimus left to give aid to the others Charlie breathed out a puff of air. “My mom is not gonna be thrilled when she hears all of this. I know said I wanted to spend more time with you guys but this isn’t what I had in mind.”

 

Charlie felt a warm metallic hand rest on her shoulders. She turned her head to look at ‘Bee. The black and yellow robot looked at her with his blue fluorescent eyes, his grilled mouth molded into a smile.

 

“I’ll be there when you need to tell your family about the En-Radiation,” he vowed. “You’ve got me and I’ve got you, just like you said. Neither of us are going anywhere without the other.”

 

“Even if I need to shower or use the bathroom?” The mechanic said jokingly.

 

“Eh, except for that,” Bumblebee muttered.

 

Charlie laughed, the figurative weight uplifted from her shoulders. “Promise?” She held her hand out.

 

Bumblebee grasped it, his eyes shinning brighter than before. “I promise.” He placed his free hand over the middle of his chest and gestured, “Cross my Spark and hope to offline.”

 

“Your spark?” Charlie tested the word. “What’s that?”

 

‘Bee narrowed his eyes, appearing to be in deep thought. “A Spark is like a human heart combined with a soul. It’s a Cybertronian’s life force. Without it you aren’t alive.”

 

Charlie was intrigued. “What does it look like?”

 

“It’s a little difficult to explain that.” ‘Bee scratched the back of his head.

 

“Can you show me?”

 

‘Bee’s eyes rotated until they were rounder and he stilled.

 

“Is it impossible to show it?”

 

“No,” he said evenly. “I can but it’s-”

 

Charlie frowned, guilt swelling. “If you don’t want to I understand.”

 

‘Bee took a step away from her and then she heard a series of clunking noises until the components of his chest opened. Inside the center of the machinery a panel slid down revealing a radiant blue light incased in a glass ball. A faint humming sound came from within the sphere as small floating wavy lines formed around it. Whenever the small surges inched away from the edge they faded into small specks until there was nothing left. Everything about it was so alien to Charlie and yet she was drawn towards the Spark.

 

“Is it safe to touch?” Charlie held out a hand but did not move a muscle.

 

‘Bee shifted his eyes and for one reason or another responded in a uncomfortable tone, “I, uh, it’s better that you don’t.”

 

The mechanic pulled her hand back. “Sorry.”

 

A minute of silence drifted between the two.

 

“You know,” Bumblebee shifted to a different topic. “Optimus once told me that what makes our kind different from other non-sentient robots is that the Spark doesn’t just power our bodies, it’s also us. The legs, servos, and helm they’re all part of a shell. They can be used for good or evil, it’s all up to us to decide what we chose to be.”

 

“And who do you chose to be?” A question Charlie has heard countless others ask her before in the past.

 

“A warrior who fights for those who can’t,” the Autobot scout answered without hesitation. Then he gestured Charlie to move back and his chest plates moved and clicked themselves back together again.

 

“Wow,” Charlie sighed in awe. “That was beautiful. Thanks for sharing that with me, ‘Bee.”

 

“You’re welcome, Charlie.” ‘Bee said softly.

 

Charlie coughed after she became aware that the others were probably still waiting for them outside of the junkyard. “We should head back home now, huh?”

 

Bumblebee nodded and transformed. The Camaro door opened for Charlie and she slid in. The car’s engine purred as Tracy Chapman’s _Fast Car_ played on the radio.

 

“Hey, ‘Bee.” Charlie put her seatbelt on and placed her hands on the wheel. “I don’t know what I want to be yet but I’ll make sure you’re the first to know. For now, I just want to help you and your friends as much as I can.”

 

_“I had a feeling I could be someone, be someone, be someone.”_

 

Charlie raised an eyebrow. “I thought you didn’t need to speak with the radio anymore.”

 

“Old habits die hard,” ‘Bee joked.

 

With a foot off the break and another on the accelerator the two of them drove into the late morning.

 

**End of The Road Trip Arc**

 

* * *

 

 **Q-A:** You know I keep telling myself to NOT write over 5000 words but my OCD brain never listens. Not that I’m getting any complaints from my lovely readers about it yet so that’s good. So, one story arc is done and next we move onto the one called “Base Sweet Base”. Take a guess what that’ll be about. Next chapter will be about Charlie and ‘Bee having to tell her family what she has learned about the En-Radiation and possibly get other people involved. I won’t say whom but be on your guards everyone. Now for those of you who are worried that ‘Bee will magically stop using his voice like he did in _Revenge of the Fallen_ , that is definitely not gonna happen here. He’ll just use his radio every once in a while first out of habit but continues it because he likes letting the music get his point across. Now we know what Jazz was interested in all the way back in chapter 2 and you’re probably thinking that a new base at a drive-in sounds silly but I can’t think of a time the Autobots doing that before and I think it can lead to a lot of cool/funny scenarios.

Just in case someone didn’t ready my top author’s note, in a few weeks I’ll be flying up to Baltimore to celebrate my aunt’s birthday. It’ll be over the weekend of March 22nd-25th

I’ll be uploading chapters normally until that weekend occurs. I hope you all won’t be too upset about it. I only get to see my aunt twice a year so this will be a rare chance to see her before the winter holidays.

 

References: 

“You’ve got me…” <\-- One of my biggest pet peeves in film trailers is when there is a line that I like but it’s never used in the movie proper. This line is from the second _Bumblebee_ trailer at (2:05). And you might recognize it from my story summary as well.

 

Songs Used:

Chapter title: Magic by Olivia Newton-John

Here Comes The Sun by The Beatles 

Fast Car by Tracy Chapman

 

Keep on Writin’ and Rockin’

 

 

 

 


	7. Under The Milky Way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time for our heroes to face the music.

**Q-A:** * Feigning a hangover * Gah, I’ll never play another drinking game as long as I live. * Proceeds to make up a list of other “games” for future chapters * I’m kidding though, I don’t even drink. XD So, here is chapter “6” of Riding A Sunset! I’m excited, are you all excited? Well, a lot will happen in this chapter but I can’t say more because then there would be no point for me to write the story after the song quote. XD

And as a reminder I’ll be flying up to Baltimore to celebrate my aunt’s birthday. It’ll be over the weekend of March 22nd-25th. I’ll not be uploading anything during that time but I’ll hopefully have something up the next Sunday after that weekend but I can’t make any promises.

_**Disclaimer:**_ I do not own _The Transformers_. It solely belongs to _Hasbro_ and _Paramount_. The songs referenced in this chapter belong to their respected producers/singers.

 

**Warnings** for this chapter are:

swearing, mentions of war, death, and slight xenophobia

  

“And it's something quite peculiar  
Something shimmering and white  
Leads you here despite your destination  
Under the Milky Way tonight” 

\- “Under The Milky Way” by The Church

* * *

 

 

Location: Brighton Falls, CA. Date: June 6, 1988

 

A long caravan of nine brightly colored vehicles drove southbound led by Bumblebee. If any humans saw the sight they could be forgiven if they thought there was a parade going on. The tall pine trees dissolved into the scenery and were soon replaced with buildings.

 

Charlie drove ‘Bee through the interstate, going the speed limit this time. The Autobots had returned into their original colorings instead of the rusted appearances they had back at the junkyard. They also had tinted windows that conveniently concealed the fact they had no drivers. One thing bothered the mechanic, though.

 

“Hey ‘Bee?”

 

The yellow scout quit fiddling with the radio long enough to respond, “Yes?”

 

“Optimus Prime is the leader of the Autobots. Why isn’t he up in front with us?” Instead the red and blue Freightliner was behind the trail of cars. Particularly he was back of Ultra Magnus who moved leisurely due to pulling an auto transport trailer that carried the three beast-bots in their pods disguised as clunkers.

 

“Optimus never takes point. He’s always the rearguard in order to make sure the rest of us are safe. We’ve tried to convince him his existence is more important than ours but he insists that no rank should determine the value of a ‘bot’s life. He _always_ has our back plates.”

 

Charlie opened her mouth in an ‘o’ in surprise. “A real father to his men, huh? Or mecha in your case.”

 

“I never thought of it that way,” Bumblebee regarded thoughtfully, “but I guess you’re right.”

 

For the last few hours Charlie had been teaching ‘Bee human vocabulary while he in turn explained to her a few Cybertronian words. She had an easier time understanding his lingo unlike him. Bumblebee could not tell the difference between a bomb and the phrase ‘the bomb’. Heaven help her if he asked if fat and phat held the same meaning.

 

In little over an hour the diminutive skyline of Brighton rolled into view. Charlie’s heart was flooded with an array of emotions as she breathed out, “Almost home, ‘Bee.”  

 

The line of cars and trucks quickly arrived at the city limits. Despite the lack of other humans nearby none of the Autobots transformed into their robot-modes.

 

“Jazz,” Optimus Prime declared, “Lead us to the drive-in while Bumblebee shall take Charlie to her housing unit.”

 

“Gatcha,” Jazz replied. He pulled in reverse and headed down a cracked pavement. The others followed suit, leaving ‘Bee and Charlie by themselves.

 

“I’m having trouble deciding if I’m relieved to see my family soon or terrified how my mom’s going to react,” Charlie admitted as they cruised through the streets.

 

“I’ll be with you the whole time,” Bumblebee said reassuringly. “Besides, I need to take responsibility for what happened to you.”

 

Charlie sighed. “’Bee, for the hundredth time, it’s not your fault I got kidnapped. You were literarily in the middle of a surgical procedure when it happened.”

 

“Fine, but you better promise to stop thinking that it was your fault too,” ‘Bee countered.

 

“Deal,” Charlie agreed, albeit reluctantly. Right after she said that they arrived in the cul-de-sac where the Watsons lived. However, the duo then noticed a khaki colored military standard _Jeep_ with a familiar logo on the side parked by the driveway.

 

_Sector 7_ , Charlie thought with building dread. The yellow Camaro’s engines revved and the needle on the speedometer moved erratically.

 

“Stay cool, ‘Bee,” the eighteen-year-old instructed.

 

“The last time we dealt with Sector 7 it didn’t end well for us,” ‘Bee reminded her, urgently. “Not only did they team up with the Decepticons, tortured me, but the one with the scar pushed you,” he hissed the last one as though it was harsher than all the other things that were inflicted upon him. “I didn’t like that at all,” he said with sarcastic modesty. In any other situation Charlie would have been touched at how much ‘Bee cared but this was not one of those times.

 

“They’re not taking you away from me. And I’m pretty sure Optimus and the others won’t let that happen either,” Charlie rationalized. She directed ‘Bee to park by the other car but as soon as he did Sally opened the front door and ran down the lawn.

 

“Charlie!” the older Watson shouted.

 

The mechanic in question got out of the yellow Camaro and was immediately embraced by her mother. “Mom!” she was stunned by the hug momentarily before she wrapped her arms around the smaller woman.

 

“You are never leaving the house again, you hear me?” Sally whispered protectively.

 

Charlie gently pushed her mom off her and looked straight in the eye. “We need to talk,” she started but Sally ignored her and marched right at Bumblebee.

 

“And you,” the elder Watson waged a finger at the yellow car. “You said you were going to keep Charlie safe. Does that look safe to you?” She gestured to her daughter. “It’s been over a day you promised to come back and why is she covered in bandages?”

 

Charlie tried to break in, “Mom, I’m fine. It’s just a bruise on my arm and a couple scratches-”

 

“You had one job, pal and you screwed it up,” Sally seethed at the car.

 

“MOM!” Charlie shouted, finally gaining her mother’s attention. That wasn’t the only person whose attention she piqued. Otis exited the front door and rushed over to Charlie and ‘Bee.

 

“Excellent, the car-bot is back,” he gushed as he gawked at Bumblebee.

 

“Yeah, I’m fine, Otis, thanks for asking,” Charlie rolled her eyes before she placed her attention on Sally. “Mom, why is there a car from Sector 7 here?”

 

“Charlie,” Ron greeted as he stood awkwardly by the door. He smiled nervously at his wife. “Sally, the uh, agents here still wish to speak and-” Charlie’s stepfather was interrupted by another person, a tall blond man with a scar on the right side of his face.

 

Charlie became stiff as a board and her wary expression became stern. “Agent Burns,” she greeted the man impassively.

 

“Charlie Watson,” Agent Burns responded and then addressed Bumblebee, “Soldier.”

 

The yellow Camaro remained silent. After noticing everyone’s confused looks Charlie sighed and said, “’Bee won’t talk while we’re all outside.” She gestured to the neighbors’ houses, who thankfully were not paying any attention their way. Charlie turned towards her brother. “Otis, go on and open the garage door for ‘Bee. I’ll drive him in.”

 

Her little brother did what she told him to do and the remaining Watsons and Burns entered the house. Once the garage door was sealed and Charlie got out ‘Bee reverted into his robot form and crouched into his usual position. His blue optics were glued on the kitchen door as the other people walked inside. Charlie noticed that his shoulder pads tensed and followed his train of sight. Instead of four people entering the garage, there were five. The last one to waltz in was a tall African-American man with a buzz haircut similar to Burns’ but his hair wasn’t thinning. He wore the same uniform as Burns with a nametag that read FOWLER on the right breast pocket.

 

Charlie could not decide whether to stand with her family or with ‘Bee but chose to step in front of him, blocking the ‘bot from the soldiers’ path.

 

“Charlie,” Sally scolded. “Be polite. I called them here.”

 

“Why would you _do_ that?” the girl demanded.

 

“Well, who else was I going to call?” Sally waved her arm. “There was no way the police would believe me if I told them a car kidnapped my daughter.”

 

“’Bee didn’t kidnap me,” Charlie insisted. She glanced away before she ‘fessed up, “Another robot did but it was an evil one and his gang of-”

 

“Were they Decepticons?” Burns interrupted.

 

Charlie shook her head. “No. Sorta, it’s complicated.”

 

The black man purposely coughed. “I didn’t know when would be a good time to introduce myself properly.” He stepped forward until he stood a few feet from Charlie and ‘Bee. “The name’s William Fowler: Airborne Ranger*. I was piloting the helicopter you saved from crashing.”

 

“I thought you looked familiar,” Bumblebee stated with widened optics.

 

“I wouldn’t be here today if it weren’t for you,” Fowler declared before he held out his hand. ‘Bee glanced at Charlie who smiled at him and nodded. She stepped aside, allowing the yellow Camaro and Ranger to properly shake hand and servo in respect. “My name is Bumblebee: Calvary Scout, Autobot Resistance, Unit Prime.”

 

“You know, I also dragged your sorry butt out of the burning chopper,” Burns said towards Fowler in a way that sounded a tiny bit crunchy**.

 

Fowler rolled his eyes. “Who’s idea was it to chase the evil robots that night?”

 

Burns muttered, “Mine.”

 

“Who’s idea?”

 

“It was mine!” Burns shouted. “Happy?”

 

Fowler smiled smugly. “As a clam.”

 

“Charlie,” Bumblebee chimed. “We need to get back to the main topic. Your family needs to know.”

 

“Right,” Charlie nodded slowly.

 

“Know what?” Sally placed her hands on her hips.

 

Charlie took a deep breath. “Okay it all started-”

* * *

 

 

Bumblebee helped Charlie fill in any blanks in the briefing from how the Autobots located the Eukarians and her whereabouts to the reveal of the Energon Radiation. There were plenty of nano-kliks where Sally or one of the agents broke in, leaving Charlie or ‘Bee to elaborate on a term or name they were not familiar with.

 

Ron was the first to speak up, though he clearly had trouble forming the words. “So, this Energon Radiation, it’s inside us?”

 

Charlie nodded. “Basically, yeah.”

 

“And it won’t turn us into superheroes?” Otis asked.

 

“No,” the mechanic groaned. “Otis, this isn’t like a comic book or cartoon. We’re in serious danger.”

 

“Of course we are,” Sally clamored fervently. “My baby girl was kidnapped by robotic animals and now this dictator from another planet might come after us just because you drove a beetle bug a couple of times.”

 

“That sounds ridiculous when you say it like that,” Charlie sighed. “Mom, you gotta calm down okay? ‘Bee and the other Autobots will help us.”

 

“Just how many of them are here?” Burns leaned in quizzically.

 

“What’s it to you?” Charlie frowned. “So you and your friends at Area 51 can monitor them?”

 

Burns, to his credit, tried not to look affronted. “It’s the government’s right to know what their purpose on our planet is and why they’re here.”

 

“And you speak on behalf of the rest of your _friends_? Do they also believe that ‘Bee and his people just want a safe place to hide?” Charlie challenged. When the government agent did not reply quickly enough she repeated, “Do they?”

 

‘Bee observed that the hesitation from Agent Burns gave Charlie the answer she was looking for. “I thought so.”

 

“They might not want to listen now but Burns and I are tryin’ to,” Fowler said honestly. “The robot here saved our lives. The least we can do is help him and his kind out. And the government just wants to know if they’re a threat or not. The last time we came in contact with people of their species it didn’t exactly end well.”

  
  
“Well, you thought the robots that called themselves _Decepti-_ cons were good and partnered up with them,” ‘Bee groused.

 

“I didn’t,” Burns insisted. “I thought they were the bad guys and nobody listened to me.”

 

“You also thought I was bad,” ‘Bee retaliated, bluntly.

 

Burns was at a loss of words and stammered for a nano-klik. Bumblebee rolled his optics and scoffed at the man.

 

“The point is,” Fowler said further, “It’s going to take sometime for our superiors to trust the Autobots unless they speak with them now.”

 

“They’re willing to hear Optimus out?” ‘Bee asked dubiously.

 

“They would very much rather negotiate instead of dealing with the firepower your people have,” Fowler responded, succinctly.

 

Bumblebee almost spoke again until he sensed a comm. ping from his processor.

 

“‘Bee?” Charlie peered at him.

 

“Jazz found the base,” ‘Bee announced to the humans. “He says that Optimus says he wants everyone to come.”

 

“Everyone?” Sally echoed.

 

‘Bee nodded. “Everyone.” He glanced at Burns and Fowler, slightly perturbed. “I guess that includes you two.”

 

“If your leader will be comfortable with that,” Fowler spoke for him and Burns.

 

“Optimus will want to speak with you,” Bumblebee disclosed. “He wants to be on good terms with the humans like the rest of the Autobots do.”

 

“Radical,” Otis exclaimed. “We get to meet the giant robots.” Sally and Ron had very uneasy expressions and Charlie attempted to comfort them.

 

Both agents appeared to be relieved from the news however. A nano-klik later the garage door opened. ‘Bee went into his alt-mode, hoping that the newcomer did not see him in his bi-pedal form. Aside from Charlie none of others reacted negatively at the arriving human. Except for Agent Burns that is.

  
“Simmons, I told you to stay in the jeep,” Agent Burns chastised.

 

“Sir,” the shorter man with curly black hair saluted and then dropped the gesture. “You got a call from the General.”

 

Burns cursed under his breath. “Fine.” He stalked away from the group to go outside while Simmons stood at his spot.

 

Fowler sighed while rolling his eyes. “Get in here.”

 

Simmons proceeded with caution as he inched in the garage. He wearily eyed the yellow/black car. “Is that the uh, Non-biological?”

 

“He prefers being call a Cybertronian,” Charlie corrected while crossing her arms.

 

Simmons glanced at the female mechanic. “Does it talk?”

 

Bumblebee shifted out of his Camaro disguise and leaned to Simmons, causing him to jump.

 

“When _he_ likes to,” ‘Bee answered in mild amusement at the skinny human’s reaction.

 

The man was close to fainting and Charlie laughed.

 

“What does Agent Burns need to talk with the general about?” Sally asked Fowler.

 

Fowler smirked. “Well, it might have to do with that fact that he didn’t necessarily say where we were going and who we were going to talk to.”

 

“Your superiors don’t know that I’m here?” ‘Bee and Charlie exchanged looks of surprise.

 

“Jack and I didn’t want to make a scene by bringing a whole squad here. We had to drag Simmons along because he overheard the phone call between Mrs. Watson and Jack. But it appears General Whalen found out anyway. So much for stealth,” Fowler sighed. 

 

“How do you know your general called you guys?” Otis asked.

 

Fowler answered, “Our jeep has a car phone attached to it.”

 

“A car with a phone?” Otis said excitedly. “That’s the bomb!”

 

“Bomb?!” Bumblebee sprung into action. His cannons activated while his HUD and mask went online.

 

“’Bee! It was a figure of speech! Remember?” Charlie yelled in alarm while the other humans began panicking. “Stop trying to break down the garage door!”

* * *

 

 

When Jazz said he found a new sanctuary for the Autobots he may have exaggerated just a tad. The trek through the sparse woods was brisk in their alt-modes and took less than a breem when they arrived to their destination. The open field they got in was fifty Earth-meters in width and almost 110 Earth-meters in length. In five rows, there were poles that stuck up from the ground with speakers that had rusted over. Trash and other debris littered the concert surface. Small triangular roofed buildings were scattered at the back of the lot. At the opposite end of the field a grand rectangular wall that was sixteen by twenty-two Earth-meters in height and width. What was probably once a clean pristine white sheet was currently faded yellow and covered with holes.

 

“This is it.” Jazz announced with wide-open doors. “Well? What do ya think?”

 

Ratchet had a few choice glyphs to say, “I think this place is a-”

 

“PERFECT!” Wheeljack squealed, his headlights brightening. “Just look at all this space!” He began to drive wildly at random spots. “We could builda couple barracks there, turn that spot over there into a chamber for this Energon reconfiguring-generator I’ve been designin’ oh, and that building in there is where Charlie says the humans keep their old projector. I bet if I fine-tune that sparkling out we’ll watch all sortsa movies and old holovids from home.”

 

“Easy, Wheeljack.” Optimus moderated.

 

“Sorry,” the scientist replied. “Gotta bit carried away.”

 

Ratchet ex-vented. “That’s an understatement if I ever heard one.”

 

“Autobots, time to initiate a sweep of the area. Scan for any human activity.” Optimus proclaimed. After a few kliks the eight cars and trucks ceased their operation once they determined that they were alone. Straightaway they transformed out of their alt-modes. Jazz started to play Earth music through his radio as he crooned to the lyrics. Ultra Magnus emitted an occasional ‘tsk’ as he beheld the desolated environment. Wheeljack dragged Arcee to a building unit where the supposed projector was located while Ironhide and Brawn remained vigilant. Ratchet stayed close to Optimus.

 

“Listen, I need a klik with you,” the medic whispered.

 

“What seems to be the trouble Ratchet?” Optimus inquired as he watch Ratchet stare at the distracted ‘bots. The Autobot leader was not concerned with his medic’s behavior but he was still curious.

 

“What makes you think I’m troubled with anything?”

 

“Ratchet you always have something on your processor,” Optimus pointed out. “We’ve been friends for millions of years. I _know_ you.”

 

Ratchet ex-vented, “Fine. It’s time to address the electraphant*** in the room. Why did you pick this planet, Prime?”

 

_He’s referring me as Prime. That can’t be good._ Optimus thought. “Ratchet-”

 

“Oh, don’t use that tone on me. I’m not one of those starry-optic recruits that get immediately swayed by your speeches. Give it to me straight, why did you tell us all to come here? Now, if it was somebot else I could understand if it was mistake and they had no idea that the dominant race on this planet was as advance enough to have their own society and communication. But you aren’t that kind of mech, Optimus. You don’t make errors as big as this.”

 

Optimus nodded once. “You are correct Ratchet.”

 

The medic arched an optical ridge. “Well~? Do you have an explanation for coming here or do I need to force it out of you?”

 

“Prime!” Jazz jogged over, unintentionally breaking the discussion, much to the Freightliner’s solace. “Lil ‘Bee just sent a reply to my comm. message from earlier. He’s bringin’ Charlie with her family over here like ya ordered.”

 

“Very good,” Optimus nodded with approval.

 

“But he’s also leadin’ some Earth government agents here too,” Jazz added in a tenor that was not as laidback as the previous statement.

 

Optimus straightened. “I see. We shall see to their arrival then.” He reissued his orders to the others through the commlink. As everybot made preparations Ratchet grabbed red and blue Freightliner by the arm.

 

“This conversation isn’t over,” Ratchet warned with a pointed digit.

 

The Autobots’ leader ex-vented as he watched his friend walk away. He did not enjoy withholding information from Ratchet but the time was not right yet. Soon, he told himself. The six Autobots stood beside Brawn and Ironhide while the later loaded up his laser cannon rifle.

 

“Is that really needed, Ironhide?” Arcee asked exasperatedly. “I only sense three land vehicles approaching us. ‘Bee’s alt-mode included.”

 

“It never hurts ta be prepared,” Ironhide reasoned.

 

“Arcee raises a fair point,” Optimus opposed evenly. “We do wish to make a good first impression with the new humans.”

 

“How is this ain’t a good first impression?” Ironhide asked genuinely while he gestured to his cannon.

 

Optimus gazed catatonically at the Weapons Specialist. “Put the gun back into your Subspace ‘Hide.”

 

Ironhide grumbled out a few swear glyphs but did as he was told. A few kliks passed until they saw headlights in the distance. Optimus ordered the Autobots to hide in their alt-modes as an extra precaution. The six cars and two trucks remained still as the three non-sentient cars roll in. The first was Bumblebee in his Camaro form, Charlie behind his steering wheel, next was a green and brown car that carried a trio of humans and a light tan colored automobile with three more humans dressed in thick black clothes. Once the humans parked and Charlie emerged out of Bumblebee, the yellow scout changed out of his alt-mode.

 

“Are you certain that you weren’t followed?” Optimus besieged the human and young ‘bot.

 

Bumblebee and Charlie nodded. “We’re sure,” they said in unison.  

 

Optimus commanded, “Autobots, transform!”

 

TSCHE-chu-chu-chu-TSCHE!

* * *

 

 

_I wonder if he ever gets tired of saying that?_ Charlie thought lightly as she watched the other humans’ reactions to the Autobots’ transformations.

 

“Hoover Dam,” Fowler spoke with awe.

 

“Oh my god,” Sally said as she and Ron gaped and propped themselves on the station wagon for support.

 

“Sweeeeeet,” Otis could barely contain his excitement.

 

Burns appeared resigned but his bulging eyes betrayed him. Simmons was the most spooked as he accidently dropped his gun and it shot out into the afternoon. Charlie’s family ducked out of instinct while ‘Bee covered her with his body for protection.

 

“Simmons!” Burns barked.

 

“S-Sorry sir,” the young man stuttered. “I forgot to put the safety on.”

 

“They are children here,” Fowler hammered in. “What is wrong with you?”

 

Wheeljack approached the fallen weapon and scanned it. “Wow, whatta antique,” the inventor said with interest. “This thing still uses metallic bullets. Ain’t that somethin’?”

 

“Wheeljack,” Ratchet grunted in disproval.

 

“Huh?” The Lancia Stratos remembered where he was. “Oh, sorry. I meant ta say _very_ _advance weaponry_ here for your kind,” he stated in a louder tone. “Yep, that’s what I meant ta say.”

 

He handed the gun back to Simmons.

 

“We are autonomous robotic organisms, members of the Autobot Resistance from Cybertron,” Optimus addressed to the agents and the Watsons. “A planet far from Earth.”

 

“This is so radical,” Otis whispered. Sally shushed him.  

 

“An antique?” Simmons stared at his gun while Agent Burns and Fowler introduced themselves. “We’re part of Sector 7, a secret-”

 

“Government organization that monitors alien activity on and off your planet,” Arcee completed effortlessly.

 

“You know who we are already?” Fowler questioned in surprise.

 

Ironhide guffawed. “We know who you are. Bumblebee told us _all_ about you.”

 

“And everything you did to him,” Brawn added in an acrid tone.

 

“Everything?” Burns asked with a slight hint of worry in his voice.

 

“Including the part where you spared him and Charlie after the battle between them and Shatter and Dropkick… However,” Optimus Prime divulged. He then narrowed his optics and sat down until his helm was leveled with Burns’ head. “One act of kindness does not undo a chain of atrocious actions. My fellow Autobots and I are willing to put the past behind us if you agree to let us stay in this location for the unforeseeable future. I believe that Bumblebee and Charlie have elaborated to you why we need to be here.”

 

“Are you really sure this is the place for you guys?” Burns glanced around the site. Charlie thought that Burns was probably thinking the old place looked butt ugly. “There is an airbase downtown in Brighton. It’s more secured and… sanitary.”

 

“The McKinnon Airbase, yes we are aware of that place,” Optimus Prime nodded. “We are also aware that it is proximately close by the human settlement. We would be forced to stay in vehicle mode at all times if we made our base there.”

 

“It would cause serious damage to the spinal struts and neck cables on all the Autobots,” Ratchet concurred.  

 

“And on a personal note,” Bumblebee raised a servo. “I would like to not stay at the place where I was almost offlined. Twice.”

 

“He said the same thing about the mine we went to get his vocalizer back,” Brawn added.

 

“We’ll see what we can do,” Fowler said. “In the meantime you all will need to stay put until we can have this settled.”

 

“A reasonable request,” Optimus agreed initially but said, “If I may slightly differ it with another requisition. We wish to leave one of our own with the Watsons at all times for their protection. My Calvary scout has volunteered to become their guardian.”

 

“Not like that would be a big sacrifice on his part,” Jazz dipped**** to Wheeljack who then chuckled. Charlie frowned at the German and Italian sports cars.

 

Jerks.

 

“Is that really a good idea?” Fowler asked skeptically. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but wouldn’t make sense to have one of your larger soldiers act as a bodyguard for the Watsons instead of your smallest one. Or have some our own take care of them?”

 

“We are the only ones who can stop the Decepticons with our weaponry and competency,” Optimus asserted firmly. “And I would trust my Calvary Scout with my Spark.”

 

“Life,” Ratchet corrected halfheartedly.

 

“Remember, Bill, that little guy over there saved our asses,” Agent Burns half-whispered to Fowler while he pointed at Bumblebee. "I'm sure he can handle a babysitting job." 

 

“Plus,” Charlie added. “My family would have an easier time explaining how I got a yellow Camaro instead of some fancy pink Toyota, or a red/green Stratos, or an eighteen wheeler.” She gave the Autobots sympathetic looks. “No offense but all of you stand out a lot. _How_ did you find your alternate modes anyway?”

 

“There was a’ international automobile show up in the city of Sacramento,” Jazz answered.

 

“Oh yeah. I remember that,” Charlie recalled. “It was last September. I wanted to go but I was working that weekend so I couldn’t,” she sighed with disappointment.

 

 “You didn’t miss much, ‘Bee shrugged. “The only foreign cars they had where from Italy, Germany, and Japan.”

 

“I could’ve seen you there, though.”

 

“Oh,” ‘Bee looked to the ground, his faceplate turned a tint darker. Was he blushing? “Yeah, well there’s that.”

 

“So, let’s go over this again,” Fowler counted with his fingers. “You’re here to hide from your Decepticon enemies, the Watsons have a type of radiation on them that can only go away after hundreds of years, you want to stay at this rundown drive-in because its close by, and you want us to somehow convince our general to let you do all this while also letting one of your own with the Watsons at all times? Is that all you Autobots want?”

 

“Well,” Optimus considered. “We also want assistance in finding our comrades when they arrive here on Earth. Along with possibly assisting Wheeljack in safely harnessing resources to make Energon for us.”

 

“Wait, more of you are coming here?” Burns appeared to be on the verge of freaking out.

 

Optimus chuckled. Charlie wasn’t sure if he was smiling either because of the mask. Again. “Of course. You didn’t expect our resistance to only have nine members, did you?”

 

“Hopefully there’s still more than nine,” Ratchet sullenly ex-vented.

 

“Looks like we got our work cut out for us,” Fowler patted Burns on the shoulder before he spoke directly to Optimus. “We need to speak with our superiors before anything can be finalized.”

 

Optimus nodded. “Understood.”

 

“How long do you think this will take?” ‘Bee asked Charlie.

 

Charlie crossed her arms and thought deeply. “I dunno. But I think it should all work out. That’s the best we can hope for.” 

* * *

 

 

As the human adults continued to converse, Bumblebee offered to take Charlie and her brother out for a ride after he saw how tired they were. Sally agreed only if she or Ron followed them in the station wagon. Both Charlie and Otis tried to protest at how un-cool that was but Optimus told them they should respect their carrier’s wishes. They begrudgingly caved in and allowed Ron to drive behind ‘Bee while they drove around town. When the sun began to set Charlie directed ‘Bee to a cliff side that had the best view to watch the crepuscule. As dusk gave way to the stars the humans showed ‘Bee all the constellations that they knew. ‘Bee, in turn, told them everything he remembered about Cybertron. With no other humans around, the yellow Autobot no longer needed to be in his alt-mode, which allowed Charlie and Otis to sit by his legs and Ron rested on a blanket.

 

“Is the whole planet really made out of metal?” Charlie asked in wide-eye interest after ‘Bee described the planet’s metallic structure.

 

“Yes.” ‘Bee nodded his helm. He gestured as he eagerly described Cybertron’s infrastructure. “And there’s a light from the planet’s core powered by a super computer called Vector Sigma that illuminates every crack and crevice on the whole world. It’s really beautiful.”

 

Charlie breathed out in awe. “I would love to see that.”

 

“Are there race tracks everywhere to drive on?” Otis questioned with captivation.

 

“There are a few good tracks but not as great as Velocitron’s. Or so I’ve heard,” ‘Bee answered honestly. “At least that’s what Jazz said when he and another Autobot named Prowl visited it once.”

 

“And there’s no plant life on that world too?” Ron leaned forward, giving ‘Bee his undivided attention.

 

“There is some on Eukaris at least I’ve been told from stories about it.”

 

Charlie titled her head. “You’ve never been to any of the colonies?”

 

‘Bee vented sadly before he answered, “Nobot has since the Comsic Rust plague hit most of the colonies eleven million years ago. Veleocitron was one of the first to go. Then Carcer, Gorlam Prime, and Paradron. Cybertron was spared because the Prime before Optimus, Sentinel Prime, sealed the Primary Spacebridge to prevent the Rust from reaching our world.”

 

“By keeping all the infected planets out you mean?” Charlie specified and then frowned. “But what about the worlds that didn’t caught the plague? What about them?”

 

‘Bee placed a servo over his faceplate and vented heavily. “I don’t know a lot of the politics that went on during that time,” he snapped unintentionally. When he saw the humans shaken up reactions he said, “I’m sorry. Optimus would be better at explaining all of this than me.”

 

“It’s okay,” Charlie rubbed his arm for comfort. “I shouldn’t have jumped at you like that. I just don’t like hearing stories where people don’t help others when they get sick.”

 

A memory file pinged inside ‘Bee’s processor. It was from when Charlie confided with him over the loss of her creator. He offlined or died from a sickness related to his heart, a human organ that was similar to a Fuel Pump within a Cybertronian. ‘Bee was sad to hear about that account then and still now.

 

“I’m sorry about your father, Charlie, Otis,” ‘Bee placed a servo on Charlie’s back in solace.

 

“It still hurts sometimes but I’m dealing with it a lot better,” Charlie replied.

 

“Me too,” Otis added softly. Charlie hugged her brother with one arm.

 

“Your mom told me he was a great guy,” Ron furthered, empathically. “That he always had a good joke and encouraged you two to follow your dreams.”

 

“You’ve been doing that too, Ron.” Otis gratified.

 

Charlie nodded. “You have.”

 

Ron grinned, elated at the news. “Thanks.”

 

Charlie wiped the moisture on her human optics and digressed, “This conversation is getting too heavy. Why don’t we talk more about Cybertron?”

 

‘Bee bobbed his helm. “That sounds good.”

 

Otis inched closer to the ‘bot. “Where do you think Cybertron is?” He then looked up to the sky and stared aimlessly at the Milky Way.

 

‘Bee laughed. “You can’t see it here on Earth. It’s very far away. Over four light-years from your planet.”

 

“And that’s far?”   

 

“Very,” Ron answered and then went to on another explanation as Otis pressed his stepfather for more answers.

 

“Hey ‘Bee,” Charlie tapped Bumblebee’s arm. The yellow Camaro whipped his head until his optics found on her eyes. “This is going to sound like a-no- _is_ a dumb question but do you miss Cybertron?” she kept her voice at a whisper to not draw attention from the male humans.

 

“Yes,” he answered without a beat. “I can’t wait until the day the Autobots and I can return and liberate it from the Decepticons but Optimus thinks that won’t happen for a very long time until we’re all together again.”

 

“How long do you think that will take?”

 

‘Bee shifted his shoulder pads. “It depends on how far all the other Autobots are. Optimus believes they’re all scattered across the galaxy. We still haven’t heard anything from the others yet. Not even Cliffjumper is here. He and I became friends when I joined Optimus’ unit,” he added after he noticed the confused expression from Charlie. “It’s strange, he should’ve arrived the same time as the rest.” ‘Bee processed the information with uneasiness.

 

Charlie curled a hand over his digit. “Hey, nothing good comes outta worrying so much. I’m sure your friend is okay. He’s a soldier like you, right?”

 

“Yeah,” ‘Bee ex-vented. “Sorry, I’m making the conversation... Harvey?”

 

Charlie shook her head. “’Heavy’ ‘Bee. And stop apologizing. Let’s quit having negative thoughts for a while,” she said encouragingly. “You’ll see Cliffjumper again and you’re going to see a free Cybertron. You and the rest of the Autobots will be home again, someday. I just hope that Brighton Falls can be a decent substitute for a while. If the talks with Optimus and Sector 7 go right that is.”

 

 “It’s no Cybertron,” Bumblebee acknowledged before he added sincerely, “But Brighton Falls is beginning to grow on me.”

 

Charlie smiled warmly.

 

**Beginning of The Base Sweet Base Arc**

 

* * *

 

**Q-A** : Oh the irony! The sad, tragic irony! I did not mean for the end there to get so emotional like that but~ I like torturing these guys before I make things uplifting. I’m either a sadist or a writer. Or maybe both…. Wait.

I'm beginning to think Wheeljack is my new spirit animal because we both people that like creating things but have no time to do it. XD Also on an unrelated note, I had a lot of fun writing 'Bee for this chapter. Deadpan snarking brings me joy. 

I know I sound like I’m coming off like a broken record but just a reminder I’ll be flying up to Baltimore to celebrate my aunt’s birthday. It’ll be over the weekend of March 22nd-25th. I’ll not be uploading anything during that time but I’ll hopefully have something up the next Sunday after that weekend. I will be writing a new chapter before I leave though I can’t confirm if it will be ready in time before I’ll be leaving.

The next chapter will be a breather in case you’re wondering. It won’t be filler though since some plot stuff does happen in it but it will be a nice fun break from all the serious stuff we’ve been going through.

 

 

References:

* William Fowler is the second Best-est character introduced from Transformers Prime (the first Best-est being Knock Out X3). So, I have no idea if the helicopter pilot from the movie did survive or not but it's a nice thought to think that 'Bee saved more than Burns' life that night and if it was Fowler it would be a cool way to explain why he trusts the Autobots. Also Fowler here is a bit different than his cartoon version because he is a lot younger and less jaded but he will still have his colorful choice of words and other -isms. Don't worry. ^-^

** 80’s slang for jealous. I swear I’m not making that up. Here’s a website link to old 80s slang. <http://www.inthe80s.com/glossary.shtml>

*** I have no idea if there is a Cybertronian equivalent to an elephant so I just made one up. I know there are Transformers who turn into them like Shuffler but that’s just about it.

**** Dipped or Dip means to eavesdrop on another’s conversation and interject inappropriately. Another fun term pulled out from the 80s. 

All the colonies mentioned are ‘real’ worlds in the TF universe (Sorry for those of you who are sad if any of the planets mentioned in this chapter are ones you liked).

 

Songs Used: 

Chapter title: Under The Milky Way by The Church. (It may not make a lot of sense in this chapter but the name of the drive-in movie theater I made up is called Under The Milky Way Drive-In. More of the history will be revealed in a later chapter, I swear.)

 

Keep on Writin’ and Rockin’

 

 

 

 


	8. Nothin' But A Good Time Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In an effort to ease Charlie before the big talk with Sector 7, Bumblebee sneakily takes her out on a drive. Hilarity and stupidity ensues.

**Q-A:** This chapter was super hard to write. Honestly, I could’ve finished this a lot sooner but I kept goofing off but now it’s done. But I’m glad with the rest of it and I hope you all will like it too.

 

 ** _Disclaimer:_** I do not own  _The Transformers._ It solely belongs to  _Hasbro_ and  _Paramount_. The songs referenced in this chapter belong to their respected producers/singers.

 **Warnings** for this chapter are:

swearing, slight Xenophobia (again), and bullying

 

 

“I'm always workin' slavin' every day  
Gotta get away from that same old same old  
I need a chance just to get away  
If you could hear me think this is what I'd say

\- “Nothin’ But A Good Time” by Poison 

* * *

 

Location: Brighton Falls, CA. Date: June 13, 1988

 

“When was the last time you were washed?” Bumblebee heard Charlie ask him.

 

The two of them were in the Watsons’ garage while working on the Corvette. Correction, Charlie was the one fixing the red and white sports car while ‘Bee observed the procedure. A week had passed since the Autobot Calvary Scout officially moved-in, as the human saying went. ‘Bee settled back into his old spot without a hitch but with a few modifications. Ever since the Watsons found out the truth ‘Bee didn’t have to remain in his Camaro form for the duration of each day until he and Charlie were alone. Some mornings Ron and Otis would greet the robot besides Charlie after they finished consuming nutrients. Sally was still slightly hesitant to speak with Bumblebee alone however. ‘Bee accidently overheard Charlie and her carrier argue over that matter in the kitchen once but he constrained himself from bringing up the subject up to his friend. He would much rather spend time re-watching _The Breakfast Club_ with her during their movie nights. She also introduced him to some other Earth films such as _The Karate Kid, Footloose, Raiders Of The Lost Arc,_ and _The Goonies._ Breakfast Club was still his all time favorite though. There was just something about the character that actor, Judd Nelson, played* (maybe it was the fist pump or the witty comebacks that reminded him of someone he knew).

 

The yellow ‘bot tapped his helm while he mulled over Charlie’s question “Uh, is it the same like a Paint N’ Polish?” The last time he went to one of those was about two Stellar-cycles ago.

 

Charlie sighed, “Nevermind.” The mechanic grumbled again before she chucked her wrench to the ground. “It’s no use. I just don’t have the right parts to fix her up,” Charlie said tiredly.

 

“It’s too bad that the Corvette isn’t running,” ‘Bee ex-vented while he helped Charlie pick up her discarded tools. “I would’ve loved to race you against it.”

 

“I’m pretty sure you’d leave me in the dust with the horsepower you have,” Charlie’s mouth almost twitched into a smile before her frown returned. “It did run after you left. But then a few months ago it just stopped working.”

 

Bumblebee furrowed his optical ridges. “Isn’t there someone who could offer you some help?”

 

“I am trying to raise some cash to go see a mechanic, emphasis on try,” she responded dejectedly.

 

“What about your job? …Did I say something wrong?” he then asked after Charlie’s face contorted into a sour expression.

 

“I-I lost my job ‘Bee,” Charlie said regretfully.

 

‘Bee’s optics widened in shock, “How? Is it because I came to you a week ago and-”

 

“It has nothing to do with you,” Charlie assured. “The food stand I was employed at couldn’t afford to stay open because not enough people wanted to buy hotdogs on a stick. Which, I can’t seriously blame them, we didn’t even use real meat most of the time,” the eighteen-year-old blanched.

 

“That blows,” ‘Bee hoped he used the correct Earth term.

 

Charlie nodded. “What sucks even more is that on the same day I got laid off was when all these colleges I applied for sent back letters saying ‘thanks for asking to come to our school but the answer is no’,” she bellowed a grunt of frustration as she slumped over the little red sports car.

 

“What’s college?”

 

“Oh,” Charlie blushed. “You don’t know what that is. Sorry, it’s a school-a place of learning-to get an education so that when you leave you have a degree, which helps getting a job a lot easier…. I’m really bad at explaining this.”

 

‘Bee shook his helm. “I think I got it. It sounds similar to basic training back on Cybertron. I had to go there in order to join the Autobots later.”

 

“Eh, close enough.” Charlie shrugged with a crooked smile.

 

“Why weren’t you accepted in college, if you don’t mind me asking,” ‘Bee approached Charlie.

 

Charlie looked at the Camaro and said, “The first application asked me to tell them what was the biggest thing to happen to me. I couldn’t tell them about you so I just wrote my _very exciting_ life of working at a broadwalk and salvaging at Uncle Hank’s shipyard. Second one that asked me if I had lost someone how did I learn to get over the loss. I tried to write about my dad but then I remembered you helped me with the grieving process so I couldn’t write that either. I left out everything that involved you but that made the story dry. For the last letter it asked me the same question as the first one and I just repeated what I wrote in that.”

 

‘Bee let out a despondent buzz. “That’s awful. I never meant to keep you from something important as your directive.”

 

“’Bee it wasn’t your fault. None of it is.” Charlie said soothingly. “I should’ve just came up with better answers. There are more schools out there than just the three I got rejected from, but.”

 

“But?” ‘Bee titled his helm.

 

“A lot of them are expensive. The ones I applied to where the closest and cheapest that my family could afford. But since they said no to me and I’m unemployed… you can fill in the blanks.”

 

Bumblebee pulled his grill into a frown as he stared at the downhearted girl. “Why didn’t you tell me any of this sooner?”

 

Charlie was smiling but ‘Bee could see that it didn’t reach her eyes. “I wasn’t going to dump all this stuff on you when you have a million problems of your own. I mean, c’mon ‘Bee you and your friends are trying to hide from the enemies of your planet, protect me and my family while you’re at it and we’re waiting to hear back from Sector 7 if you can even stay near Brighton at all.”

 

“Charlie,” Bumblebee gently placed a servo on her shoulder. “Breathe,” he directed the obviously overwhelmed human. As she took steady breaths ‘Bee continued, “It’s going to be okay. It’s just like you said, we just gotta hope that everything will work out. Even if it doesn’t, I’m sure Optimus and the other Autobots will figure something out. We’re not alone in this anymore, Charlie.”

 

“Optimus Prime always has a plan, huh?” Charlie replied after she calmed down.

 

“’Trust the Prime’ is a saying that Jazz made up and he’s 100% right,” ‘Bee said.

 

Both of them laughed briefly until the yellow scout heard a familiar ping.

 

“Must be from base,” ‘Bee ex-vented and then answered it.

 

::’Bee:: Arcee spoke.

 

::What is it? Did Wheeljack’s scanners pick up any new arrivals?::

 

::If he did Optimus would be speaking with you instead of me::

 

‘Bee’s shoulder pads slumped. ::Right::

 

::You’re needed back at the base. Both you and Charlie::

 

::Why Charlie?::

 

::You’ll both be debriefed once you get here::

 

::Alright. I’ll just tell Charlie and we’ll be on our way::

 

::Excellent. Captain Arcee out::

 

::Calvary Scout Bumblebee out::

 

 _Now to tell Charlie_ , ‘Bee thought before he recapped to her what the pink Integra said to him.

* * *

 

Location: Under The Milky Way Drive-In, CA. Date: June 13, 1988

 

 _Under The Milky Way Drive-In_ was the dream of an eccentric millionaire before Charlie was even a gleam in her carrier’s optic. The man’s ambition was to build the biggest outdoor theater, including the largest screen ever (“He even called it a i-mac, Imake, or something,” Charlie tried to explain to ‘Bee as they drove to the base**). The idea was too ambitious though since the owner erroneously thought Brighton Falls would become a fast-growing city during the Sixties, which clearly did not happen. So, after fives years of operating the drive-in was forced to close down. According to Charlie on the last day it was opened Charlie’s father took Sally there as their first date and the rest was history.

 

“My parents would tell me that story and how much fun they had there. The Milky Way was the only other place besides the Boardwalk that teenagers got to hang out,” Charlie revealed. “I kinda wished to have seen what it was like during its heyday,” she sighed wistfully as they pulled under the old Milky Way sign. “Wow, I see the Autobots have been busy.”

 

Bumblebee silently agreed with Charlie. The two of them almost couldn’t recognize the place. The theater screen and small buildings were still intact but there were foundations for some housing units that were not built yet. At the corner of one end ‘Bee noticed Wheeljack. He appeared to working on something ‘Bee’s scanners deciphered as reflective panels.

 

“’Wonder what he’s up to,” Charlie observed.

 

‘Bee ex-vented. “I don’t know but it must be part of some wacky invention of his.”

 

“Is it a good or bad thing?” Charlie exited the Camaro and ‘Bee transformed into his standard mode.

 

“It depends on how big the explosion will be.”

 

“You’re kidding right?” ‘Bee gave Charlie a look mixed between concern and ‘how naive could you possibly be?’ When they arrived the scientist waved them in greeting.

 

“Hiya. Are you guys here ta help me set up these solar panels onto the footed mounts I made?”

 

“What are they for exactly?” Charlie asked while she investigated the panels.

 

“For convertin’ Energon of course,” Wheeljack answered as though it were the most obvious thing in the world to him. “With the electricity gathered from da power it’ll generate we can turn it in’ta Energon.”

 

“Is it safe?” Charlie peered nervously at the wires that stuck out of one of the mounts.

 

“Sure… in theory,” Wheeljack reluctantly added the last part. “It won’t blow up this time I swear.” ‘Bee and Charlie gave him uncertain looks.

 

“The last time you said that about your last new gizmo it spontaneously combusted and set Brawn on fire,” Bumblebee noted. 

 

“Yeah, and I have the scorch marks to prove it,” Brawn complained nearby as he rubbed his back plates.

 

“And besides isn’t this kind of like the opposite of what Optimus told us not to be doing?” Bumblebee gestured to the incomplete device and then the unfinished buildings. When Wheeljack did not seem to get the picture ‘Bee ex-vented and finished, “We’re not supposed to be turning this place into a base camp until we know for sure that we can stay here.”

 

“That’s practically in the bag,” Wheeljack waved off ‘Bee’s apprehensions. “I mean what could we possibly do ta make the humans not like us?” Immediately after he said that the solar panels caught on fire and were ablaze. “HOLY PRIMUS! Somebot call the Rescue Bots!”

 

Ironhide let out a galaxy-weary vent. “Easy, you lugnut, I got it,” he raised his right arm. Attached to his arm was a nozzle that shot out fire-retardant foam. In a matter of Earth-seconds the fire dissipated and left only smoke and burnt wiring.

 

“Phew, that wazza close one,” Wheeljack wiped the coolant from his forehelm. Ironhide then slapped the other end of Wheeljack’s helm.

 

“Ow!”

 

“What the Pit is wrong with you?” the Security Lieutenant called out. “You can’t jus’ build somethin’ out in the open like this. What if that fire got outta control and humans spotted it?”

 

“I was just tryin’ to make our lives easier,” Wheeljack responded apologetically. “We’re runnin’ low on Energon and barely have enough for a Stellar-cycle.”

 

“That still gives us enough long after Optimus speaks with the humans’ government.”

 

“It’s already been a week and still no news,” Wheeljack countered back. “We can’t just sit around here twiddlin’ our digits while we wait for our Energon supplies to drain.”

 

“You do not need to wait any longer, Wheeljack.” Optimus Prime approached the three Autobots and human alongside Ultra Magnus and Arcee. The other Autobots soon joined in the impromptu meeting.

 

“What’s this about, Optimus?” Wheeljack asked.

 

“The agents Burns and Fowler have consulted with us that their superiors shall incline to begin negotiations,” Optimus announced.

 

“Glad to hear that,” Jazz grinned.

 

Ironhide crossed his arms. “When’s it gonna happen?”

 

“In three Earth-days time, United States Government officials will arrive at the McKinnon Air Force where Optimus will speak our terms of agreement,” Ultra Magnus explained.

 

“Ultra Magnus will be join me during the congregation.” Optimus furthered. “Jazz,” he spoke directly to the Porsche. “You will be in charge while Ultra Magnus and I are absent.” 

 

Jazz thrust a clenched servo in the air, the new Autobot salute.*** “You can count on me, Prime.”

 

“Charlie,” Optimus turned towards the human. “I have a favor to ask of you.”

 

“What is it?” Charlie stared attentively at the Autobots’ leader.

 

Optimus kneeled until he was with eye-to-optic with Charlie. “You may decline if you see yourself unwilling to do so but it would mean much to me if you were to accompany us as an interpreter to the briefing with the government officials.”

 

Charlie gaped in shock. “Me? But wouldn’t it make more sense to have Fowler or, even Burns be there for you instead of me?”

 

“Agents Burns and Fowler will be present at the meeting with their superiors,” Ultra Magnus answered. “Optimus Prime wishes for you to be there on _our_ behalf.”

 

“Charlie,” Optimus rumbled, gaining the mechanic’s attention once more. “While you were not the first to make contact with Bumblebee you are the first to befriend him and later the rest of us. There is still much that we do not understand about this planet and yet you have been patient enough to explain to us what you know. We are also not familiar with the politicians of your country and what their ambitions are, your insight on the matter can be helpful for us.”

 

‘Bee was unable to read Charlie’s internal feelings but he could see from her face that she was concerned with what Optimus told her.

 

“Can I have some time to think it over?” she asked after an Earth-minute.

 

Ultra Magus appeared chagrined by the question. Bumblebee knew the SIC never liked vague answers as he preferred straight ones. Optimus disregarded the FLC122 glyph-less refusal and nodded to Charlie. “You have until the day after tomorrow to make a final decision.”

 

Charlie sighed. Bumblebee could tell that she was not satisfied with the offer but chose not to say anything. The two of them were given permission to return to Brighton where they returned home to an irritated Sally for leaving the home with her or Ron.

* * *

 

Inside the kitchen area both Watson women were having an argument.

 

“Why didn’t you wait until Ron or me was home to go with you?” Sally asked the moment she got back from work and hung up her nurse’s uniform.

 

Charlie sighed. “’Bee said, that Arcee said that Optimus Prime wanted to see us ASAP. We couldn’t just wait until Ron’s shift ended two hours from then or the random hours you have.”

 

“A phone call wouldn’t have been too much to ask,” Sally responded as she pulled out the dried dishes from the dishwasher.

 

“Okay,” Charlie agreed. “I should’ve tried calling you.”

 

“Remember that for next time,” Sally demanded.

 

“Can I just call you for now on when I need to leave the house?” Charlie leaned against the sink.

 

“No. Ron or me have to be with you when you drive.”

 

Charlie stared at her mother as though she had grown a second head. “Mom, you’ve never made me do this before and now you are all of a sudden.” She narrowed her brown eyes as she thought of something else. “You’re not doing this because you now know my car is a robot?”

 

Sally appeared to be offended. “I want you to be careful and driving around in a car that turns into a robot that shots lasers is the opposite of being safe.”

 

“I can’t believe you. Are you seriously judging ‘Bee because he was built to fight,” Charlie voice lowered in shock. “‘Bee protects me.”

 

Sally rung a wet washcloth and threw it into a dirty pot. “You’ve gotten hurt.”

 

“’Bee hasn’t hurt me,” Charlie didn’t know how many more times she had to say it until her mother was convinced. “He and the rest of the Autobots have done everything they could to help me and they’re doing the same for us. You could at least try to sound grateful.”

 

“Grateful?” Sally repeated. “Charlie, our family has some kind of radiation on us that apparently attracts giant robots and we now have to live the rest of our lives watching our backs in case the bad robots show up.”

 

“We’ll be safe, Mom. We have ‘Bee staying with us. You don’t see another Autobot around to supervise him. I _know_ he’ll protect us.”

 

“How can you be so sure about that?” Sally grunted as she struggled to pull a large pot from the dishwasher.

 

The mechanic sighed before she decided to help her mom and carry the cylinder to the counter. “Optimus Prime believes in ‘Bee and so do I,” Charlie said. “I trust both of them and you should too, Mom.”

 

“On that note why does the Autobots’ leader think you should go speak with the military?” Sally asked. “What’s what all about?”

 

Charlie frowned as she tried to turn away from her mother. “They-they want my help.”

 

“Why you? Can’t they get someone else to-”

 

“I’m the only human they know they can trust, Mom,” Charlie snapped. “I’m the first human that met them, supported them, treated them like people. _Obviously_ I have to be the one to help them because I just know _so much_ about giant robots from space,” her tone bordered on exhaustion.

 

“Just tell them no since its clearly stressing you out,” Sally reasoned.

 

Charlie shook her head. “I have a responsibility.”

 

“You’re eighteen. You should be responsible for applying to college and looking for a new job. None of ….this. Whatever this mess is.” The older Watson woman gestured with her arms spread out.

 

Charlie sighed. “I’m pretty sure we’re passed that point, Mom. Look, I don’t really know if the stuff with the military will happen or not. I just need some time to think.”

 

“Well, maybe while you’re at it you could go look for a job?”

 

“Mom,” Charlie began to say but Sally raised her hand to shush her.

 

“I didn’t want to say something sooner but the money from your job was a big help around here. I didn’t want to put pressure on you but… I felt that you need to know it now.”

 

Charlie felt so many thoughts swarm around her head at that moment. All of them were fighting inside her mind and she couldn’t decide which one was more important to think over. Instead she chose to shut them out.

 

“I have to go.” Charlie abruptly stood up and headed for the door to the garage.

 

“Charlie-”

 

“I just need to think this over,” the mechanic insisted as she entered the chamber and then collided with Bumblebee.

 

Charlie shouted in surprise and ‘Bee almost knocked himself over but rested his servo on the wall to steady himself.

 

“Sorry,” the Camaro quickly apologized. “I was just wanting to make sure you were okay.”

 

Charlie closed the door behind her and walked in. “We were pretty loud in there, huh?”

 

 “A little bit.” ‘Bee shrugged his shoulders and twisted his servo back and forth. 

 

 “How much did you hear?”

 

‘Bee gazed sympathetically at Charlie. “I heard enough.”

 

Charlie frowned as she sat on the bench. Her hands held her head in place.

 

“If you don’t want to help Optimus you can tell him.” Bumblebee crouched down and leaned near his friend. He spoke gently, “You can decline his offer if you want to.”

 

“You heard what I said to my mom, didn’t you? I can’t,” Charlie breathed. “I’m the only human that’s legitimately on your side. I don’t want to let you down.”

 

“You wouldn’t be letting anyone down, Charlie. Optimus could just figure something else out. He always finds a way,” Bumblebee vowed.

 

“Unless there’s some other human he knows about I’d say we’re out of luck,” Charlie groaned and then slumped on the wooden plank until she was staring straight at the ceiling. Her mind went back to what her mother said to her before.

“What am I even doing with my life? Normal 18-year-olds go off on road trips and hang out with friends before they go to college. They don’t need to decide if they should help with negotiations related to immigration for alien life forms.” She pressed her hands into her face again and sighed for what was probably the millionth time that afternoon.  

 

“We should go out.”

 

Charlie was momentarily surprised by Bumblebee’s unexpected offer. “Go out?”

 

“For a drive,” ‘Bee elaborated further, sounding very amped. “Just like we used to do back before… before Sector 7 and the Decepticons showed up.” His optics dimmed while his antennae drooped. Charlie placed a hand over his arm. She smiled slightly at ‘Bee.

 

“My mom won’t let me.”

 

“Didn’t she ask you to start applying for new jobs?” Bumblebee titled his helm. “Just tell her you’re doing that while we’re driving out.”

 

“Wouldn’t that be lying?” Charlie crossed her arms though her lips curled up in amusement.

 

“It only is if you’re not actually going to do it,” ‘Bee pointed out. “C’mon, Charlie you need sometime to cool off from all the stress you’re getting. I’d always go out driving back on Cybertron whenever I need to run my pistons for a while.”  

 

Charlie sat up and considered Bumblebee’s offer. “It… would be nice to get out of the house for a while.”

 

‘Bee buzzed curiously.

 

Charlie smiled genuinely this time. “I bet Mom won’t be too mad if I go to get some job applications, of course.”

 

The Camaro revved his engines and threw a fist in the air. “Sweet!”

 

Charlie laughed.

* * *

 

 

Bumblebee heard Charlie groan as she exited the building. The structure in question was called _KO Burgers,_ an establishment humans went to for consuming nutrients away from their homes. Charlie also said it was a place where beef died along with hopes and dreams. Whatever that meant.

 

“They weren’t offering any new positions,” Charlie said through gritted human denta- teeth.

 

‘Bee’s radio flickered, “But the sign on the window says ‘Help Wanted’.” He made sure that his vocalilzer was on a low enough setting so that only Charlie could hear him.

 

“Apparently one of the employees forgot to take that down,” Charlie answered.

 

“That stinks,” ‘Bee ex-vented.

 

“Let’s just drive.” The Camaro drove out of the parallel parking spot and moved through the street. That was the end of a small list of potential stores and shops Charlie attempted to apply. The one before the restaurant was a store owned by a female named Mrs. Calloway. She politely told Charlie that she wasn’t hiring anyone but she did ask the mechanic to tell Otis to stop coming over to try and ask for free Fro-yo.

 

 _Whatever that is,_ ‘Bee thought through his processor.

 

“I guess I have no choice but to drag my butt over to a McDonald’s a beg for a job there.”

 

“But you said that only people with dead-end lives with no hope of escaping their pitiful existence would ever work there.”

 

“I _am_ a person with a dead-end life with no hope of escaping my pitiful existence.”

 

“Char-lie,” ‘Bee stressed. “Don’t be so negative on yourself. You promised you’d be thinking more positively, right?”

 

The mechanic smiled before she stared at the dashboard. “What would I do without you, ‘Bee?”

 

“Be looking for a new job by yourself?” ‘Bee joked. His Spark brightened when he heard her laugh.

 

For a few kliks Charlie drove ‘Bee in comfortable silence. The yellow Autobot leafed through radio stations. The Rolling Stone’s single, _One Hit (To The Body)_ played through the speakers.

 

“Hey ‘Bee,” Charlie called out after the song ended.

 

“Hey yourself,” the radio replied back.

 

“Do you remember when I asked earlier if you’ve been to a carwash?” Charlie recalled as she steered ‘Bee to change lanes.

 

“Yes,” ‘Bee answered. His sensors followed Charlie’s train of sight and became aware of a yellow sign with flickering lights on it.

 

“I think you’re about due for one. As thanks for… everything.”  

 

“This won’t hurt, will it?”

 

“No,” Charlie claimed before adding, “Though it might tickle a bit.”

 

Bumblebee couldn’t help the worried buzz he made until the eighteen-year-old patted the wheel.

 

“It’ll be okay, pal.”

* * *

 

 

Witwicky’s Wash**** was a three generations family owned carwash. Just like Uncle Hanks’ Marine Repair and Parts it was a place that Charlie used to frequent with her father. Only difference was that she had a real reason to visit Uncle Hank’s and had no excuse to go back to Witwicky’s until she had a working car.

 

And now she did.

 

Bee’s vehicle mode looked even better than before. The dust on Bumblebee’s metal plating was gone and instead it shined brightly thanks to soap and water. The mud caked on the wheels and rear bumper had been washed away. The dead bugs on the windshield, grill, and headlights were wiped clean off. And a thorough vacuuming of the interior got rid of more dust and dirt. A couple of fluffy rags were used to wipe ‘Bee until he was completely dry.

 

“He looks amazing,” Charlie said to employee before she caught herself. “The car I mean.”

 

The older man laughed. “Well, I hope you did. Otherwise I wouldn’t be doing my job right if the car looked bad. I gotta say, Charlie this car is a real beaut’. Where did ya say you got it from?”

 

Charlie inwardly sighed and remembered the made-up story she and her family agreed on. “It was a late graduation present,” she lied.

 

The brown haired man raised a brow. “Really?” he asked in mild disbelief. “No offense, but I didn’t think your family had enough cash to get another car.”

 

“They saved up _a lot_ of money,” Charlie insisted.

 

“Okay, sorry,” the man raised his hands in surrender. “No need to get defensive.”

 

“It’s alright, Sparkplug.” Charlie said as the man, nicknamed Sparkplug, put his small vacuum away and rummaged through a box.

 

“Buster!” Sparkplug shouted. A young man with blond hair came running out of the main office a few minutes later. “What took ya?”

 

“Sorry, Dad. I just had a couple pages left on this chapter and-”

 

Sparkplug rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah save it for later. I’m outta air fresheners. Do we have anymore left in storage?”

 

Buster scratched the back of his head. “Yeah, but there the ones with the bee on them.”*****

 

Sparkplug sighed. “Nevermind,” he waved his son away. “You can go back to reading, sport.”

 

Buster nodded and left. Charlie shrugged her shoulders, “It’s fine. The car smells clean enough as it is.”

 

“Aright then,” Sparkplug smiled. “Don’t be a stranger. I’d like to see more of one of my old favorite customers again.”

 

“Keep your prices low and I’ll keep coming back,” Charlie commented. Sparkplug chuckled boisterously and walked away.

 

Charlie turned her attention back to ‘Bee. “So? How do you feel?” She walked around the Camaro, pretending that she was inspecting the car while she listened to ‘Bee’s response.

 

“Really nice,” Bumblebee answered quietly. “I almost feel like I’ve recharged, in a way.”

 

Charlie smiled. “That’s good to hear.” She stepped back to the passenger door and leaned in until her body was halfway in the window. The mechanic pulled herself out a moment later along with a bag that she brought with her before they left home. “Now that you’re all clean I have something else,” Charlie said as she dug out one item that the mechanic had been holding onto for months.

 

“Another surprise?” ‘Bee’s engine rumbled with excitement.

 

“Not another carwash if that’s what you’re thinking,” Charlie replied in amusement. Out of the bag was what appeared to be a stylized drawing of a bumblebee over a white sheet of paper.******

 

“Wow… _what_ is it?”

 

Charlie tried to hold back a chuckle with mixed results. “It’s called a car decal. People put these on the back windshields or rear bumpers as a decoration. This one has an artist’s interpretation of what a bee looks like. I found this while I was shopping for Christmas gifts for the rest of my family at a thrift store.” She lowered her head down and smiled bashfully. “It reminded me of you and it was mostly a last minute purchase but I thought if I ever saw you again that maybe I could ask if you wanted to wear it. But if you don’t that’s totally fine.”

 

“I like it,” ‘Bee chimed.

 

“Really?”

 

“Really really. I would love to wear the gift you got for me.”

 

Charlie felt a warm feeling gush through her and smiled.

 

“Hey, kid.” Sparkplug’s voice drew Charlie out of her thoughts.

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Are you okay? You’ve been staring at your car for about five minutes.”

 

The mechanic’s cheeks reddened from embarrassment. “Oh, I was just… figuring out a good spot to place a sticker on the car. That’s all.”

 

“Alright,” Sparkplug bought Charlie’s fib and went back to helping a new customer.

 

“I better actually put this on you now before we draw worse attention,” Charlie joked somewhat. She placed the sticker over the rear windshield. Then she did all the steps to ensure the decal stuck to the glass without any air pockets or wrinkles present. It took all of ten minutes until the decal was perfectly placed by Charlie’s standards. The angry bumblebee lay firmly at the center of the rear glass.

 

“Looks wicked,” Charlie grinned. She rubbed her hand over the decal. “What do you think, ‘Bee?”

 

Whatever ‘Bee was going to say next was horned in by a literal car horn from another Chevy Camaro. The difference between Bumblebee’s vehicle mode and the non-sentient car was that it was red instead of yellow and black. There were also two passengers and one driver inside the muscle car. One of the passengers got out and slapped his palm against the driver’s.

 

“Thanks again for the lift, Tripp,” praised a young man who looked like an older version of Buster but with brown hair.

 

Tripp lazily grinned back. “No problem, Spike.”

 

Spike then noticed Charlie and his jaw dropped slightly.

 

“Wow, Charlie is that you?” Spike asked, surprised. “Haven’t seen you here in a while.” When he approached the mechanic, Spike was a head taller than her and he could easily lift her up with one arm.

 

Charlie shrugged awkwardly. “Didn’t have enough cash on me to come back here until now.” She was not at all intimidated by Spike. He and his father were old friends of her dad so she felt bad for lying.

 

“I’m glad you did, that’s a really nice car you got there,” Spike motioned to ‘Bee. “When did you get it?”

 

“A while ago,” Charlie bluffed. “It’s a late graduation gift from my family,” she recited.

 

The driver’s door opened and Tripp came out and approached the two. “Hey, Diver Girl, right?” He winked at Charlie.

 

Charlie frowned. “I’m sorry that I booked it when you asked me to dive back at the cliffs,” she excused.

 

“Ah, no sweat. Jumping off a cliff isn’t the same as a pool right?” Tripp asked rhetorically. “Anyway I just wanted to come out and ask about your new ride.”

 

“Graduation present,” Charlie answered, readily. “I came here to get the car washed from Spike’s dad.”

 

 “No better place if you ask me,” Spike bragged with a hint of pride. Tripp rolled his eyes and playfully nudged the older teen. The two of them laughed with Charlie eventually joining in. Their good moment was ruined by an obnoxious car horn.

 

“Tripp,” a whiny voice dragged out. “You promised you’d take me to the mall.”

 

 _Aw, crap._ Charlie inwardly winced the moment she laid her eyes on who was the second passenger in the red Camaro. Tina Freakin’ Lark. _And just when this afternoon started to look up._

 

The moment Charlie and Tina’s eyes met, the blonde shot the brunette a disgusted look before pretending to look happy when Tripp glanced at her.

 

 _Don’t make a scene, Charlie. Don’t make a scene,_ the mechanic chanted inside her head.

 

“-bet you’re wondering who’s is faster.” Spike elbowed Charlie’s arm.

 

“Sorry, what was that?” Charlie pushed her thoughts away.

 

“I was just saying to Tripp here that it’s a pretty weird coincidence you both have the same car type. He then asked if that means both of your cars have the same horsepower and I said, ‘I bet you’re wondering who’s is faster.’”

 

“Are you saying that like a hypothetical deal or something else.”

 

“I think it means he wants to see us race,” Tripp grinned. Spike mirrored his own at the girl.

 

Charlie felt her heartbeat increase as she tried to swallow an imaginary lump down her throat. She placed her hand on ‘Bee’s hood for comfort. “Sorry, but I’m not into illegal street racing,” Charlie found her confidence returning when she felt the warm metal against her skin. “I don’t want to get into trouble.”

 

“You’re only in trouble if you get caught,” Tripp teased.

 

“Okay, let’s not talk about this kind of stuff while my dad’s nearby,” Spike warned. “I was talking about a friendly race, guys.”

 

“Sorry,” both Charlie and Tripp apologized. “I, uh, need to get going,” Charlie said lamely. “Got places to be and all that.”

 

She headed straight for the yellow and black Camaro, deliberately ignoring the confused stares from the guys. “Let’s go, ‘Bee,” she whispered to her friend and they started to drive off when-

 

“Giving up on being cool again, huh Watson?” Tina mocked.

 

“Go get bent, Lark,” Charlie grumbled under her breath. She needed to stay cool. Charlie wasn’t going to let the airhead get to her.

 

“I bet you’re wussing out is because you know _my_ boyfriend’s car is better than your tacky paint job knock off.”

 

Charlie pounded her foot against the breaks. “What!?” She removed her seatbelt and marched over to where Tina was and growled through seethed teeth. “My car can go up to sixty in less than nine seconds. The horsepower on that baby is 185 miles. Per. Hour.” She thumbed at ‘Bee behind her back while she continued to give the blonde a verbal beat-down. “This Camaro can out drive anything.” Including a giant metal bulldog, but Charlie chose to keep that part to herself for obvious reasons.

 

“My Camaro could drive circles around any car,” Charlie stated proudly.

 

“Prove it,” Tripp dared.

 

“Wha…?” Charlie uttered dumbly.

 

“Tonight. 9 o’clock at the town outskirts. Finish line will be Pico Tunnel. You better not chicken out this time, Diver Girl.” Tripp winked one last time before he headed to his car and sped out of Witwicky’s Wash.

 

“Well, that escalated quickly,” Spike said simply. He laughed once and patted Charlie on the back. “I wish ya the best of luck. I have a night shift later so I can’t play hooky to watch the race.” He waved and bid Charlie a goodbye before he left her too. She numbly walked into the yellow Camaro and sat inside the driver's seat. 

 

“Charlie, do you know what you just did?” Bumblebee whispered.

 

“I screwed up,” Charlie hit her head against the steering wheel.

 

“Big time.”

 

“I should back down.”

 

“You’re right, we should.”

 

Charlie nodded.

 

“After we smoke Tripp and rub it all over Tina’s face,” Bumblebee’s engine growled.

 

“’Bee?” The mechanic gaped at the dashboard.

 

 “The revenge we gave Tina wasn’t enough to break her down a peg. Let’s show her what a mechanic and a knock off with a tacky paint job can really do.”

 

 **End Of Chapter 7 (Part 1)**  

* * *

 **Q-A:** Whoops, this turned into a two-parter. Am I really sorry though? Not sure, but I do know that this chapter was going on a lot longer than planned so I decided to just chop it in half. So yeah, the next chapter will be about the illegal race and why Charlie should never make decisions when she’s mad. At least she was trying to defend ‘Bee’s honor. I personally don’t think it’s too OOC for ‘Bee to get angry at what Tina said but it’s clear he and Charlie aren’t thinking too straight. This decision might bite them in the afts later.

 

References:

*Judd Nelson is/was the voice for Hot Rod/Rodimus Prime in _Transformers The Movie_. He also reprised his role as a cameo in _Transformers Animated_ in the episode Transwarped Part 1. 

**An obvious reference to IMAX, which existed back in the 60s but I’m wildly guessing they weren’t as widespread back in the 1980s as they are now.

***That is a reference to the film where ‘Bee gave Agents Burns the fist pump from The Breakfast Club instead of a salute. I’m aware that Ultra Magus saluted Charlie back in Mr. Roboto but let’s pretend that was a special Autobot salute (not related to the 'updated' version) and not an American military one. XD

****There’s the reference to the original comic/cartoon family that befriended the Autobots. Move along, move along. ;)

*****I was tempted to also give ‘Bee the “Bee-ouch” air freshener like he had in the ’07 Bayformers film but I decided against it.

****** The official Bumblebee logo that was never used in the movie except for a very brief appearance at the beginning of the credits. Here’s a link to what it looks like for those who don’t know: <https://news.tfw2005.com/2017/05/14/transformers-bumblebee-movie-logo-revealed-338913>

 

Songs Used: 

Chapter title: Nothin' But A Good Time by Poison. <\-- I feel this song matches Charlie and Bumblebee's mood perfectly for this chapter and the next one, at least the first part of the next chapter. 

 

Keep on Writin' and Rockin'

 

 


	9. Nothin' But A Good Time Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Further teenage and young robot stupidity ensues in this chapter.

**Q-A:** I didn’t mention this in the last chapter but I went and I finally saw _Captain Marvel_ two weeks ago. I kinda saw the plot twist coming but I still enjoyed myself and found 90s!Fury intentionally hilarious. And yeah, that de-aging software they used on Samuel L. Jackson is incredible. :O Whatever studio is behind that technology really outdone themselves. So, back to this fanfic, a lot of you are pretty shocked about what went down at the end of the last chapter. Well, here we’ll be seeing the consequences of Charlie and ‘Bee’s actions. Obviously I won’t say more since I don’t want to spoil anything.

 

 ** _Disclaimer:_** I do not own  _The Transformers._ It solely belongs to  _Hasbro_ and  _Paramount_. The songs referenced in this chapter belong to their respected producers/singers.

 

 **Warnings** for this chapter are:

swearing and possible OOC moments ahead.

 

Don't need nothin' but a good time  
How can I resist  
Ain't lookin' for nothin' but a good time  
And it don't get better than this”

\- “Nothing But A Good Time” by Poison

* * *

 

Location: Brighton Falls [Outside City Limits], CA. Date: June 13, 1988

 

The current time was 9:55 PM, a group of a dozen or so graduates fresh out of Brighton Falls High stood by waiting. They hung around for Tripp Summers’ challenger to arrive as their watches kept ticking by. A lot of them had heard the rumors that it was the weird gloomy gearhead who threw the gauntlet. “Cheeuh-yah right,” others said. They remembered how last year that same loser was too chicken to jump down a cliff for no reason. Like she had the guts to actually go through with racing against Tripp. Everybody and their dog knew Tripp was easily the fastest driver. Still, there was nothing else better to do on a Monday night than watch a drag race.

 

Unless the other racer doesn’t show up, that is.

 

One of Tripp’s friends glanced at the road. “I think the grease monkey girl is a no-show.”

 

“This is bogus,” someone else complained. “Let’s blow this popsicle stand before the cops show up.”

 

“Hey, I said the race was at ten. It won’t be ten for another three minutes,” Tripp reasoned casually.

 

A few other people grumbled but showed no signs of booking it.

 

Nearby a quintet of young women sat by a brand new baby blue BMW* belonging to Tina. Her two friends Meg and Wynonna sat the closest to her while the other two girls sat by them on the ground. Their names were Brenda and Liz.**

 

“God, it’s so hot out here,” Meg whined. “My hair’s getting all frizzy.”

 

Wynonna rolled her eyes. “You shoulda tied your hair up in a pony tail or put a hat on like I did.”

 

“Yeah, but I don’t have a hat that’s cute enough to go with my top.”

 

“It’s nighttime,” Wynonna said exasperatedly. “No one will notice how your hair looks, Meg.”

 

“But-”

 

“Hey,” Tina leaned forward until she could stare at the other two girls properly. She attempted to hold back a grimace at how their outfits screamed total wannabes. “You two used to hang out with Watson. Right?”

 

Liz and Brenda exchanged nervous glances. “Yeah, but not anymore,” one of them vowed.

 

The other nodded her head rapidly. “Yeah, she like became a total buzzkill last year and we stopped being friends with her. You’re not gonna stop being friends with us because of that are you?”

 

Tina inwardly sighed. “I just wanna know if you knew why she started acting so weird lately.”

 

Liz or Brenda responded, “Um, she got moody when her dad-”

 

“I meant after _that_. Ever since September she’s become something different.”

 

The two still acted very clueless.

 

Tina let out a sigh that time. “Ever since last year Watson’s been acting weirder than normal. She still dresses all emo and junk but now she willingly talks to people and talks back.” To people like her, which Tina didn’t like one bit.

 

“We don’t know,” Liz or Brenda responded helplessly. “We haven’t spent time with her in months.”

 

“She’s also been like way more possessive of cars more than usual,” Meg noted while she tried to straighten her hair with her nails.

 

“You know Jessica said she saw Watson drive up from town a couple times at the other end. She even saw a Porsche drive behind the weirdo once or twice,” Wynonna mentioned.

 

The trio did not get a chance to think over those developments when someone shouted, “I see a car!”

 

All heads turned to look down the road. There they saw a yellow Camaro with two black stripes over the hood and back end of the car.   

 

The challenger had arrived.

* * *

 

Charlie wanted to sink into the deepest hole she could find and burry herself.

 

“This is probably the worst idea I’ve done so far. And I’ve made some pretty bad decisions before this one,” the mechanic whispered. “Why did you convince me to sneak out again to come to this stupid race?”

 

“It’s time you show everyone that you’re way better than Tina is,” Bumblebee announced as Queen played on the radio.

 

 _“We will we will rock you!”_ The music was loud enough to drown out their conversation from everybody else outside of the car.

 

“How exactly would me beating Tripp in a race convince everyone I’m better than Tina?” Charlie deadpanned.

 

“If you do this they’ll like you and want to be friends with you instead of Tina. You miss Memo right? You need to hang out with other humans instead of some crusty old ‘bots.”

 

Charlie would’ve laughed at ‘Bee’s crazy logic if things were different. “You and the Autobots aren’t crusty,” she reasoned before adding teasingly, “Old, yes, but not crusty.”

 

“Wow, _thanks_.”

 

“I’m not sure I can beat Tripp though,” Charlie’s tone was on edge. “According to the rumor mill, he’s been in a ton of street races and won them all.”

 

“Well, ‘bet he’s never raced against a Cybertronian,” Bumblebee boasted. “He wouldn’t last five astro-seconds against a real racer like Blurr.”

 

 _Somehow I can’t help but think this is going to quickly turn into a major downward spiral_ , Charlie thought, troubled. ‘Bee parked at the side of the road where Tripp and his car were. When Tripp approached them Charlie pressed the window button down and the glass sunk into the door.

 

“’bout time you showed up,” Tripp wisecracked in a friendly manner.

 

“My folks took a while to got to sleep,” Charlie lied. She had tried in vain for the last three hours to change ‘Bee’s mind on why going out was a terrible idea. The mechanic’s words, of course, fell on deaf audials on the robot.

 

“Glad you’re here. A lot of people here didn’t think you were brave enough,” Tripp turned his attention away from Charlie and to the crowd. “But she came! You’re all gonna get a real show tonight everybody.”

 

The crowd cheered in response. Charlie smiled weakly at the noisy applause.

 

“She won’t do it,” Tina’s voice rang out. All voices became silent. “Just looked at her,” the blonde pointed at Charlie. “Her shoulders are shaking. She’ll puss out like at the diving cliff.”

 

“Yeah, she’ll never be as awesome as Tripp,” Tina’s lackey Meg agreed.

 

Tina stared directly at Charlie with a deep glare. “She’ll never be cool like the rest of us.”

 

Charlie suddenly forgot why the race was such a bad idea as her face heated up from anger. ‘Bee’s engine revved up as a new appropriate song blared from his stereo:

 

 _“We’re not gonna take it!_ _No, we ain't gonna take it. Oh we're not gonna take it anymore!”_

Charlie honked her horn to get Tripp’s attention. “You said we’re racing at 10. My car’s clock says it’s 10:01. Well? Are you gonna keep standing there all night or are you going to put your foot where your car’s gas pedal is?”

 

A collection of ‘ooohs’ echoed against the night and even Tripp looked impressed.

 

“Alright.” He nodded to a friend. “Dex, tell everyone what the rules are.”

 

“The rules for tonight’s race are simple,” a young man with red hair explained while Tripp entered his car. “The starting line is at the city limits here,” Dex pointed at an imaginary line between the Brighton Falls’ welcome sign and a tree at the other end of the road. “And the finish line is Pico Tunnel ten miles north from here. Whoever enters the tunnel first is the winner.”

 

“I’ve got twenty on Tripp!” a random person said in the crowd.

 

“I’m riding twenty-five on the mechanic,” said another guy. Soon everyone was placing bets over who would win. A majority of them gambling that Tripp would beat Charlie.

 

 _They’re going to regret making that bet,_ Charlie thought dangerously as ‘Bee aligned himself at the ‘starting line’ with Tripp. Soon both of their engines started to rev up and the two racers exchanged competitive glances at each other.

 

In front of the two cars a girl pulled out a white handkerchief. She lifted it up above her head and kept it there for a ten seconds before she lowered her arm and the rest of her body to the ground, signaling the start of the race. Both cars roared their engines and sped down the road, leaving a trail of red lights and dust in their wake.

* * *

 

Tina, Meg, and Wynonna cough in an attempt to clear the dust that obscured their breathing.

 

“Come on!” someone shouted. “We gotta see who’s the winner.” Everybody who came with a car scrambled to start their vehicles up and head to the direction the two racers went.

 

Tina turned the ignition on in hers and started to go in reverse when the two wannabes clamored towards her car.

 

“Don’t forget us,” Liz or Brenda said.

 

“We want a ride too,” the other one added.

 

“Yeah,” Tina pretended to consider their request but then disclosed, “Maybe if the corn dogs you gave my girlfriends and I weren’t so soggy I’d reconsider.”

 

“And you stopped giving us free ones anyway,” Meg lamented.

“We lost our jobs at the food stand,” whoever defended with both hands, pressed on a door.

 

Tina scowled and pushed the girl away from her car. “Get your sweaty hands off my car’s paintjob. You being too poor to buy us food is not my problem,” Tina stated sharply and then drove forward until the two losers were specks in the mirror.

 

The trio laughed obnoxiously as they followed the other cars.

* * *

 

Tripp originally started off in the lead for a few minutes. Charlie questioned ‘Bee why they weren’t ahead of him yet and the yellow Autobot commented, “We need to lull him into a false sense of security. Then we strike.”

“What does that-Whoa!” The back of Charlie’s head was pressed against the seat from the whiplash due to the sudden change in speed. ‘Bee had shifted the gears right then and accelerated until he and Charlie were neck and neck against Tripp. At least for about five seconds, before they sped ahead of him.

 

“Wha~?” the dumbfounded look on Tripp was funny enough for Charlie to laugh.

 

“’Bee I’m ready to take over,” Charlie declared with both hands firmly on the wheel.

 

“I’ll be the Mach 5 to your _Speed Racer_ ,” ‘Bee said seriously.

 

Charlie sighed. “I’m never letting you watch cartoons with Otis again.”

 

“Aw, no fair,” ‘Bee fussed.

 

“Talking in that baby voice won’t change my mind ‘Bee.”

  
“Not even a wittle bit?”

 

“No.”

 

“Please?”

 

Charlie feigned a thoughtful look before she sighed overdramatically. “Fine, but you have to do all your chores on time, mister.” she conceded while doing the lousiest impression of her mom’s voice.

 

They both had a laugh until the sound of a car horn interrupted them.

 

“Oh, forgot him for a nano-klik,” ‘Bee remembered.

 

Tripp sped up until he was beside them and shouted. “We’re almost at the halfway point. I hope you aren’t getting too comfortable because you’re about to see my taillights.”

 

“He really sounds like Blurr, only talks a lot slower,” the yellow Autobot remarked.

 

“Let’s give him a run for his money,” Charlie stated as she pulled the gearstick to change shifts as they approached a curve. Tripp was on the right side of the road while they were one the left. He suddenly started to ram his Camaro to ‘Bee’s side, which forced Charlie to drive dangerously close to the road’s railing before he cut them off.

 

“Okay, maybe he isn’t just full of hot air,” Bumblebee admitted.

 

“We still have a chance here,” Charlie checked her rearview mirror. “I have one trick up my sleeve.”

 

“It must be high up in there since your shirt’s sleeves are so short.”

 

“Human figure of speech,” the mechanic said neutrally as she commenced her driving move. Charlie placed her foot on the breaks, momentarily distracting Tripp with the sudden change and she accelerated to her right. She skidded sideways while getting in front of the red muscle car blocking him again as she made her exit out of the turn.

 

Charlie felt adrenalin pump throughout her body. “Whoa, I always wanted to pull off a drift.”

 

Bumblebee hummed with interest. “You call that drifting on your planet too?”

 

They remained in the lead while occasionally changing lanes to drive around late night motorists. Eventually Tripp caught up with them. He was not appearing as easy going as before. For the first time that Charlie could remember Tripp had a very serious look on his face. In a matter of seconds the Pico tunnel was in both drivers’ line of vision. The two cars were neck and neck once more until suddenly Tripp began to attempt to ram the side of his Camaro against ‘Bee.

 

Charlie reacted swiftly and jerked Bumblebee to the side to avoid a collision. “Jeez! He’s not fooling around. What’s up with him?”

 

“Remember the rules of the race Charlie,” ‘Bee reminded her. While the tunnel had two lanes the rules of the race clearly said whoever made it in first would win. Tripp must’ve thought playing dirty was the only way to victory. Fine, three can play at that game.

 

Charlie turned her wheel going to the right and making ‘Bee’s side front bumper kiss Tripp’s front fender. Tripp jerked his Camaro away at the last minute.

 

Satisfaction swelled through Charlie until she paid closer attention to Tripp’s car. Sparks flew on the other side of his red Camaro as it scrapped against a rail guard. He struggled to drive his car back in place. Charlie saw panic in his eyes when he and she noticed his car was a hundred meters away from the right vertical support of the tunnel’s archway.

 

Charlie started feeling less amped as memories coursed through her mind. _What am I doing?_ Charlie thought rationally. Immediately she pressed her foot on the break and lagged until ‘Bee was immobile. Tripp was able to get out of the way in time and pick up speed while he headed for the tunnel.

 

“Okay I get that we needed to back off or else he’d crash but why are we stopping?” Bumblebee exclaimed. “We were still in the lead.” Or they used to be and Tripp had just entered the tubular passage.

 

“It wouldn’t change anything,” Charlie breathed out.

 

“All of those people’s opinions of you would be different,” ‘Bee pointed out in a rather bitter tone.

* * *

 

“What just happened?” Meg stared blankly at the seemingly stalled car that belonged to Watson.

 

“Her car broke down before she made it to the finish line,” Wynonna answered in mild disbelief. “I’d feel sorry for her if she wasn’t such a loser.”

 

“She stopped on purpose,” Tina stated. “There’s nothing wrong with her car.” She shut off the break in her car and drove forward.

* * *

 

“Okay,” Bumblebee ex-vented after Charlie explained why she stopped before. “I guess you have a point, but I’m still a bit bummed out we couldn’t wipe the smirk off of Tripp’s face.”

 

“I was more interested in getting rid of Tina’s smug grin for what she said to you to be honest,” Charlie said.

 

A car honk and a pair of headlights approached them from the rear, reaching them halfway through the tunnel.

 

“Looks like you might have a chance.” ‘Bee observed. He recognized the vehicle belonged to Tina Lark. He felt Charlie’s hold on his steering wheel tighten slightly when the other human females exited their car. Charlie then emerged from the Camaro and leaned her back against his side.

 

“Wow,” Tina dragged out the phrase. “Once again you screwed up your chance to be cool. What’s the matter, sweetie, got stage fright at the last second?” 

 

“It’s none of your business, Tina.” Charlie clarified evenly.

 

“You could’ve had normal people like you again, you know, before you became a basket case,” Tina said in a faux sympathetic tone.

 

“Face it, the only people she wants to be friends with are older than dirt or geeks,” the dark haired female snidely commented.

 

“I bet she would be friends with cars if they could talk,” Tina stated callously.

 

“Bet she thinks she’s BFF’s with that one,” the other fair-haired girl said while she mockingly pointed at Bumblebee.

 

“Bet she’s dating one. Not like she’d get a real man to like her after how she handled Tripp during the race.”

 

‘Bee was not sure why that last insult made his Spark leap but he never felt more tempted than that moment to reveal himself and tell those girls that they were wrong. Any person would be lucky to have a friend like Charlie. At least that’s what he assumed they meant. Charlie however, beat him to it.

 

Kind of.

* * *

 

A small surge of anger flowed through her briefly. Even her right fist was clenched. But as quickly as the emotion arrived it soon went away and Charlie then felt waves of understanding engulf her. She breathed out and stared straight at Tina. Not with a look of contempt but instead with determination.

 

“You know what Tina? You’re not worth it,” Charlie declared as she crossed her arms and her eyebrows slightly slanted. “All you ever do is make fun of people just for having a different back ground than you. What’s your damage? You live in a two-story house in the heights, have two parents, including a dad that’s _still alive_ , and three cars, but you still don’t feel satisfied until you belittle someone once a day? What the hell did I even do to you make you treat me the way you do? Just because I have to work to earn a living that means I deserve to be trash talked? That’s just sad.” Charlie shook her head in shame. “I can’t believe I used to be afraid of jerks like you.”

 

Charlie did not turn around to look back at Tina or her mean girlfriends as she entered inside Bumblebee and drove away once the break was turned off.

 

“That was amazing.” Bumblebee said in admiration.

 

Charlie smiled. “I’ve been wanting to say that to her for over a year but was too scared until now.”

 

“I was so tempted to get out of my alt-form and scare them off but you held your ground,” he further praised.

 

“Thanks. And I’m flattered you’d do that but I don’t think the rest of the Autobots will appreciate it as much as me,” Charlie said as they finally reached the opening of the tunnel.

 

“Oh mech,” ‘Bee groaned. “Did you have to remind me? I wasn’t processing straight earlier. If the others find out, and more importantly if Optimus finds out, what we did tonight I won’t hear the end of it.”

 

Charlie tried to comfort her friend the best way she knew how until she was startled by a group of cars driving past her and then blocking the road.

 

“Great what do these guys want?” Bumblebee huffed impatiently.

 

Charlie cursed under her breath. “I think they’re the people who bet that I would win the race.”

 

“They don’t look too happy that you lost.” ‘Bee and Charlie noticed the posse of young adults appeared very pissed off. They must’ve gambled a lot more money than Charlie realized.

 

“Want me to turn back?” Bumblebee asked.

 

Charlie shook her head. “They’ll just follow us.”

 

“I can outrun them,” ‘Bee crowed confidently.

 

“They still know who I am. I don’t want them to follow me home,” Charlie expressed.

 

The two of them were starting to run out of ideas when a siren ended the party.

 

EEE-WOO! EEE-WOO! EEE-WOO! EEE-WOO!

 

“Book it!” “Scram!” “Bounce! It’s gotta be Sherif Lock.” A collection of voices called out and people began to hurry back into their cars.

 

“Aww, crap,” Charlie swore. She tried to escape but the other people’s cars rushed around her, temporarily trapping her and ‘Bee.

 

“This is Law Enforcement. Come out with your servos up!”

 

“Wait a sec,” ‘Bee recommended. “I know that voice.”

 

Moments later a familiar black and white Porsche drove down the hill next to the road and transformed into Jazz in his robot form.

 

“Never mind,” Bumblebee muttered

 

The Porsche pressed a button above his front bumper, which turned off the siren and the voice recording.

 

“Jazz, hey,” ‘Bee greeted the older ‘bot nervously. “How are you? You look great, did you get a hot wax earlier? ‘Cause you have this shiny glow that’s really…. Bright.” 

 

Jazz said nothing and crossed his arms.

 

“You saw us race, didn’t you?” Charlie deadpanned as she stuck her head out of the car’s window.

 

“Mmm-hmm.” Jazz nodded solemnly. “I was on patrol when I heard an engine roar sounding like yours and I decided to head out and roll.” 

 

Charlie and Bumblebee both winced.

 

“Bumblebee, Charlie, let’s go for a drive.” Jazz returned to his vehicle mode. He and ‘Bee drove side by side and with no sign of other cars for miles the Porsche spoke, “Listen let me tell y’all a tale. Millions of years back I was once a street racer.”

 

“You were?” Bumblebee sounded surprised.

 

“What? Where else did ya think I got my savvy learnin’s from? Spec Ops training? Naw, I was a wild little younglin’ back in the day, treading up pavement havin’ myself a real good time.”

 

“If you liked racing so much why didn’t you do it professionally?” Charlie asked.

 

“Unless you had connections or were built with a racer frame nobot could make it to the big leagues on Cybertron,” Jazz responded. “Back then everybot was forced into a system that was based on your function and what alt-mode ya had. The rest of us who weren’t as strong or fast or smart were gutter trash like me.”

 

“I never heard that happened to you personally,” Bumblebee gasped.

 

“Times were tough even _before_ the war,” Jazz stated.

 

“How did you get from that to being with the Autobots?” Charlie tilted her head curiously.

 

“I gave up racing when a Law Enforcer finally caught up with me,” the Spec Ops revealed. “He was one of the few that asked questions first and shoot later. I guessed it helped that he also had been trying ta catch me for a long time before then. Anyway he was actually sent by Optimus Prime himself requesting I joined his little fledging resistance because he saw how fast and silent my engine was. He felt I could use my skills as a scout for his spec ops. And the cop that found me said he’d clear my charges if I joined them. So, it was a no-cerebral processor because it was either that or spendin’ the rest of my existence in a cell.

 

“So, the whole point of that long-aft story was that I kept on joy ridin’ until the law finally caught up with me. I was a lucky mech since the right people found me but that was still a once in a lifetime type deal. I can’t say the same for you two. I am impressed that you chose not to continue the race. If I was still a delinquent I wouldn’t have swallowed my pride like ya’ll did.”

 

The three of them cruised down the road in silence for a few minutes until Jazz asked, “So, y’all thought of having a little street race ta’night. Wanted ta look cool or somethin’. Or win a few bets and make some dough as the humans say right?”

 

“That’s not exactly why we did it,” Bumblebee answered sheepishly.

 

“Well then why did ya?”

 

Charlie glanced at the road signs as she recalled the race and what she had been thinking at that moment.

 

“My mind went back to all the times my family and the Autobots told me how proud you were of me. This race, it went against everything everyone said about me. I’m not gonna throw all of that away because I was being selfish. Just like I told Bumblebee earlier, the only thing I’d win in the race was all of those people’s attention. People I don’t even know or care. If I want them to like me it should be about who I am not what I do.”

 

“Mmm-hmm,” Jazz hummed in agreement. “You took the glyphs right outta my intake valve, Lil’ Lady.”

 

“She also stood up to the girl that always used to bully her,” ‘Bee added, sounding very proud. “The look on the other girl’s face was priceless.”

 

“Battles come in all shapes and sizes. They all come with their own surprises,” Jazz said.

 

“So, are we going back to base?” ‘Bee questioned.

 

“Yep,” Jazz responded.

 

“Are you going to tell Optimus what happened tonight?” ‘Bee’s tone was filled with worry.

 

“No, of course not.”

 

Charlie heard ‘Bee sigh in relief.

 

“You’re going to tell him.”

 

Charlie could practically hear ‘Bee wincing. “I drove right into that one.”

 

“Ya’ll know that the rest of the team needs ta be told of what happened. Ya can’t keep secrets from your own teammates. Is that understood Lil ‘Bee?”

 

‘Bee sighed and said reluctantly, “It is.”

 

It took them a half hour before they arrived at the drive-in. Already the others were in their robot forms when Jazz, ‘Bee and Charlie showed up.

 

“Bumblebee is there a reason why you and Charlie are out this late?” Optimus Prime approached the young scout after the mechanic got out of him and he reverted to his bi-pedal mode.

 

‘Bee crossed his servos behind his back and told the Autobots all the events of that night. To their credit, no one interrupted the Camaro as he spoke. They did have very displeased expressions at the end of it though.

 

Ironhide was the most letdown.

 

“Bumblebee, yer a member of Unit Prime,” the Weapons Specialist said. “We’re not just a team servo-picked by Optimus because of how strong and fast we are, we’re meant ta set an example to the rest of the resistance. Yer behavior tonight was inexcusable. You broke the big rule of never abusin’ yer power fer personal gain. That includes horsepower,” Ironhide pointed directly to where ‘Bee’s engine was located.

 

‘Bee’s antennae drooped in shame. He stared imploringly at the Autobots’ leader. “Are you mad at me too?”

 

Optimus Prime shook his helm. “I am not mad at you Bumblebee. But I am disappointed with you.”

 

Bumblebee shrunk at the word disappointed. His crumpled up form reminded Charlie of the few times she scolded him in the past. She was feeling incredibly guilty.

 

Charlie approached the taller robot. “Please, don’t put all the blame on Bumblebee. Most of it was my fault,” she insisted while pointing to herself. “If I had just kept my mouth shut after Tina insulted ‘Bee he and I wouldn’t have raced Tripp. Please don’t remove ‘Bee from your squad because of what happened tonight.”

 

Charlie felt everyone staring at her. She wondered if they were thinking she was a bad influence on their scout.

 

Optimus Prime’s optics were calm and he said placidly, “Bumblebee will not be discharged from what occurred this evening, Charlie. One mistake doesn’t erase the good he has done for your race and ours. We will not ignore it however. Bumblebee,” he looked directly at the scout. “You will be punished for disregarding my rule and nearly putting your charge in danger tonight. For the remainder of the Earth month you shall hereby be parked.”***

 

“Parked?” Bumblebee gasped. “But what about-”

 

“You will continue to look after Charlie and the Watson clan but you can no longer go on outings without permission from us, namely myself, Ironhide and Jazz. When you aren’t with Charlie you will be here to aid anybot with duties that we shall produce for you. Is that made clear?”

 

‘Bee nodded slowly. “Understood, sir.”

 

Charlie was glad to hear ‘Bee wasn’t going to lose his position with Unit Prime but she then remembered that she had to go back to her family after all of this. “I guess you’ll tell my mom about what happened tonight too?” She was so not looking forward to having another heated argument with her mother again.

 

Optimus Prime kneeled until he was eye-level with Charlie. “Since no human law enforcement was involved tonight I will not alert your creator. I believe that you have learned your lesson and have no further need of scolding. Heed this as a warning though for the next time this possibly happens I will inform your parental units.”

 

“That’s fair,” Charlie agreed with a half-hearted shrug.

 

 “Furthermore, I demand that you will assist Bumblebee in his chores through the duration of his punishment.” Optimus Prime declared. “Within reason of course.” He turned his attention to the rest of the Autobots. “I believe now is a good time to as any to recharge. Today was a long day… for all of us.” He specifically glanced at Charlie and ‘Bee when he said the last part.

 

Charlie sighed and thought, _It sure was._ Once ‘Bee was in his vehicle mode again she entered him and they drove home a little older and wiser.

 

**End of Chapter 7 (Part 2)**

* * *

 

 **Q-A:** Well, that ending was a bit anti-climatic but I couldn’t think of anything more to add. Get ready for next chapter because Fowler and Burns will be back. I know a lot of you were happy to see Fowler in this. But there will be a lot of talking in the next chapter. Just to warn you. But if you like seeing Sector 7 fumbling around Optimus and his public speaking skills in action then the next chapter is everything you want and more! But please don’t abandon my story if you don’t like that. I promise the next next chapter won’t be boring. I try not to make any of my chapters boring.

 

References:

 

*A BMW 3 Series 325i. The reason I didn’t bring it up is because in Charlie and the Autobots’ p.o.v’s they would know the specific types of the cars because of her love of cars and the robots know since they learn of each vehicle they’ve scan and learn of new ones for further research. Tina and her friends don't care about cars only if they drive fast and look cool. 

** Liz and Brenda aren’t characters I made up. They are Charlie’s ex-friends from deleted scenes of the film and the official Junior Novel of BumbleBee (man I sure feel sorry for those actresses. They play two characters only to not appear in the final film or even get a name credit. That must really suck). I’m pretty sure the book was written before the final edits of the film were made since there are other scenes in it that were deleted such as the scene where Charlie drives her brother in town, the ‘Go-bot’ conversation Charlie has with Memo, and the infamous unfinished scene with Charlie and Memo battling the sentient electrical devices in her house that ‘Bee created. XP Personally, I am very glad that last one was cut. It felt like something from Bayformers but not the good part.

*** Parked is the Cybertronian equivalent of getting grounded. XD

 

Songs Used:

 

Chapter title: Nothin’ But A Good Time by Poison.

 We Will Rock You by Queen.

 We’re Not Gonna Take It by Twisted Sister.

 

 

Keep on Writin’ and Rockin’


	10. One Vision

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to Chapter 8. Moral of the chapter is to always listen to Optimus Prime. Even humans.

**Q-A:** Here we are chapter 8! So last week I finally got Bumblebee on Blu-ray. I didn’t buy the digital copy because I’m one of those people that prefer a physical one. I’m weird like that. But I loved seeing Bumblebee again. ^-^

 ** _Disclaimer:_ **I do not own The Transformers. It solely belongs to _Hasbro_ and _Paramount_. The songs referenced in this chapter belong to their respected producers/singers.

 

 **Warnings** for this chapter are:

Injuries being treated, swearing, Xenophobia, and mild Sexism ahead.

 

No wrong no right,

I'm gonna tell you there's no black and no white,

No blood no stain,

All we need is one world wide vision

\- “One Vision” by Queen

 

* * *

 

Location: Under The Milky Way Drive-In, CA Date: June 15, 1988

 

“A little more to your right,” Wheeljack instructed.

 

Bumblebee was helping Wheeljack move his equipment around the base. One of his devices just happened to be a large generator that powered his gear, which the scout had to push.

 

“How’s this?” ‘Bee asked after he shoved the large square shaped machine down a couple meters.

 

The inventor shook his helm. “No, I shoulda meant my right. Go put it further up over there,” he pointed to a corner of the base.

 

‘Bee gathered up some energy for the herculean task while he ex-vented. “Okay.” He put both servos on one end and thrust it with great strain. A few nano-kliks later, ‘Bee moved the cube where Wheeljack told him to place it. “Is this good?”

 

Wheeljack narrowed his blue optics and harrumphed. “No, now it’s right in the corner.”

 

“That’s where you were pointing,” Bumblebee defended.

 

“No, I specifically pointed there,” Wheeljack rested his digit at a new location even further than where he primarily directed.

 

The yellow scout complained, “Really?”

 

“Remember what Optimus said,” Wheeljack warned in a singsong tone.

 

“Yeah, I know, _‘_ _When you aren’t with Charlie you will be here to aid anybot with duties that we shall produce for you,’”_ Optimus’ voice recording came from ‘Bee’s memory file.

 

“Just keep shifting the generator until I tell ya to stop,” Wheeljack commanded. “Move it back down again. Keep going. Almost there, almost-Wait! Stop push it back a bit and-Perfect!”

 

Bumblebee was to tired to call out how he had just moved the generator to the exact same spot it was originally located before Wheeljack asked him to move it. Unknown to him the mad inventor was secretly chuckling. Arcee was nearby and noticed what Wheeljack did and gave him a withering stare, which quieted the Lancia Stratos.

 

“Wheeljack, just because ‘Bee’s new assignment is to help us when we see fit doesn’t mean you have to boss him around like that,” Arcee reasoned.

 

Bumblebee overheard the Communications’ Specialist and glared at Wheeljack.

 

“What? I really do need his help with movin’ my tools around. I’m just giving his some busy work ta do. By the way the spot where you originally had it before was good,” he said directly to ‘Bee.

 

The yellow scout sighed at the inventor’s antics but he started to shove the generator again without complaint.

 

“What you need is to get your helm checked,” the pink Integra said dryly. She went over to Bumblebee and offer to assist with moving the generator, much to the younger Autobot’s relief.

 

As Bumblebee and Arcee move the device forward he asked Wheeljack, “By the way where’s Charlie?”

 

“I had her go get some wrenches from Ratchet for me,” Wheeljack replied.

 

“He’s busy checking up on Brawn’s shoulder pad. He won’t like the interruption,” Arcee said with concern.

 

Wheeljack waved off her worry. “Ratchet may not be all talk but he’s a big softie under all that heavy plating. I’d know since I’ve worked with him almost as long as I did with Percy.”

 

“He must have a funny way of showing he cares with all the times he’s thrown a wrench at you,” Bumblebee said snarkily, which garnered him a laugh from Arcee.

 

Wheeljack’s mouthplates bent into a frown. “You’re such a comedian.”

 

“But seriously, though Charlie will be okay right?”

 

“I’m sure she’s fine ‘Bee,” Wheeljack tried to reassure the younger 'bot.

* * *

 

At the other end of the parking lot Ratchet had a makeshift medbay set up. A berth was at the center while a table stood nearby for all most of the necessities the medic needed for operations. Above the furniture were two large outdoor canopy tents that the agents Fowler and Burns brought for Ratchet when he request them. Tents were elevated with several cinder blocks on each foot so that the Autobots won’t hit their helms when they entered inside. Charlie arrived at the location a few minutes ago but stayed to watch Ratchet in fascination. Ever since she met the Autobots’ Medical Officer she wanted to see him in action and wondered if it was any similar to what she did.

 

She was wrong.

 

The way Ratchet examined Brawn was nothing like how she inspected ‘Bee when he got hurt. The Ambulance knew exactly where to go and which tool he needed for the complex wiring, cogs, and lights. What surprised her the most were his hands. Whenever Ratchet put his fingers near an opening smaller than his fist tiny needle-like tongs sprouted from his digits and maneuvered around miniscule wires with ease. Eventually he removed his fingers and let out a sigh. “Sorry Brawn, my fingers aren’t long enough to reach the rest of the shrapnel, even with the added help,” he wiggled his little needle probes.

  

“I need a drone or a Mini-con with smaller servos to handle your framework.”

 

Brawn looked over Ratchet’s shoulder and stared at Charlie. “Why not her?”

 

Ratchet followed Brawn’s line of sight and noticed the human.

 

“Oh, no.” Ratchet shook his helm rapidly. “There is no way I’ll involve a human in a delicate project like this where the sharp metal fragments alone can slice an arm off.”

* * *

 

“So, what am I trying to look for again?” Charlie as she gazed at Brawn’s exposed shoulder.

 

The mechanic heard Ratchet sigh. She couldn’t tell if he was annoyed with her or with himself. Or maybe Brawn. “There’s a shrapnel located up where his shoulder meets the neck cables. It’s been giving me grief for the last Solar-cycle.”

 

“It’s been only givin’ you grief?” Brawn asked incredulously.

 

“Fine, him too I suppose.”

 

Charlie stood atop the table near the berth after Ratchet had given her a boost earlier. She carried a pair of pliers and a small wrench from her toolkit she took from home. Charlie began to wonder is she should’ve also brought a roll of insulating tape. Then flashes of electricity spooked Charlie when one bolt zapped her. She yelped in alarm and Ratchet steadied her.

 

“I knew this was a bad idea,” the medic grumbled.

 

“But I think I saw the piece,” Charlie said. “It’s located right where you said and-”

 

“Brawn’s electrical wiring is acting out too much for it to be safe. Even for a Cybertronian,” Ratchet interrupted. “We’ll have to wait it out until it stops short circuiting.”

 

“But what if it’s too late and hurts him even more?” Charlie questioned. Before Ratchet could answer Brawn keeled over to the side of his exposed shoulder in pain. A warning ringed out from the Demolition Expert’s mainframe.

 

“Slag,” Ratchet cursed. He rushed over to where his crate of equipment lied and scanned around for the tools he might need. “I didn’t think it was going to get this serious,” he murmured to himself. “There must be something in here that I could-” the ringing suddenly ended. Ratchet turned around fast and saw Charlie holding a jagged metal held from her pliers while wearing yellow gloves over her hands. She had a pleased smile on her face.

 

“I brought some rubber dishwasher gloves from home just in case Wheeljack need help with something so I wouldn’t get electrocuted. Then I used some lubricant from the table here to shimmy the scrap metal out of Brawn with my pliers.” She motioned to the uncapped bottle of see-through gel with her left foot.

 

Ratchet raised a brow in what appeared to be mild interest before he approached the berth to examine Brawn further. “Huh.” He spared Charlie a half-hearted glance. “Just needs a steel wool patch and the nanites in Brawn will do the rest of the work. Not a bad fix, kid.” He pulled out a metallic patch from his Subspace and securely placed it over Brawn’s wound before installing the plating back on. Ratchet then told Brawn that he’s good to go and the medic unceremoniously left the medbay.

 

Charlie watched Ratchet leave, her expression blank. 

 

“Don’t mind the Hatchet,” Brawn said as he stretched his shoulder. “That’s just his way of sayin’ he’s impressed without actually saying it. Thanks by the way, that piece of literal scrap made liftin’ my servos all the way a real pain.”

 

“It’s fine. He reminds me a lot of my Uncle Hank,” Charlie recalled with genuine fondness. “I think I can handle Ratchet.”

 

“Just like how you would handle those Earth government types… uh, that is _if_ you want to or not.” Brawn added hastily.

 

“I haven’t thought too much about it not since well yesterday,” Charlie admitted truthfully. That whole conversation she had with Optimus Prime blown over her mind after she accidently challenged Tripp to a race.

 

Brawn got off the berth and offered his servos to Charlie. He lowered her down and said, “I ain’t sure if Prime would be keen on your help after that stunt you pulled anyway. Eh, no offense.”

 

Charlie sighed. “No, I deserved that. I acted like a real airhead yesterday afternoon. I’m pretty sure Optimus Prime probably thinks I’m some immature human that can’t be trusted with anything anymore.”

 

“Well, you won’t know for sure unless you ask him,” Brawn responded. “Prime’s the type of bot that doesn’t hold a grudge especially if you’re really sorry about what happened.”

 

“I think I’ve made up my mind on his request of needing my help but I don’t know if he’ll want to hear it.”

 

“He’s not mad at ya,” Brawn insisted. “I don’t think it’s in his programming to get upset unless you count the time with the Eukarians. He was pretty mad that they threatened you and ‘Bee.”

 

Charlie put her tools away into her backpack. “I guess I’ll take your word for it.”

 

Brawn kneeled towards Charlie. “Hey, I know he looks intimidating but Optimus is mech you can trust with bein’ compassionate.”

 

“Thanks, Brawn.” Charlie waved.

* * *

 

“I wonder when I’m getting that wrench?” Wheeljack asked aloud. Nano-kliks later a large projectile hit him in the back of his helm. “Ow!”

 

“Charlie said you needed that,” Ratchet called out a distance away.

 

Bumblebee picked up the fallen wrench from the ground while Wheeljack rubbed his newly dented helm.

 

“Heh, I guess Ratchet didn’t like being disturbed after all,” the Calvary Scout noted humorously.

 

Wheeljack grumbled, “I hate retribution.”

* * *

  

“I understand that if your opinion of me has changed I will accept that and somehow find a way to earn your trust again,” Charlie said formally to the tall red and dark blue FL86 Freightliner. She had approached the Autobots’ leader while he was extracting supplies from his silver trailer. Apparently Optimus Prime usually kept his trailer inside his Subspace when not in use hence the reason Charlie rarely saw it until that moment.

 

Optimus Prime raised an optical ridge. “Why do you feel obligated to reclaim what was not taken away from you to begin with?”

 

Charlie frowned in confusion. “Because I am partially responsible for racing with ‘Bee the other night? And I assumed that you’d not want my help anymore with the government tomorrow.”

 

“Charlie, you made a mistake and you have been assisting Bumblebee with his tasks. You have no reason to remain guilty over what transpired the previous evening. What’s done is done. There is no reason for us to bring up your previous error.”

 

“Thanks,” the mechanic felt a huge weight lift from her shoulders.

 

“And as for being mine and Ultra Magnus’ interpreter tomorrow, the offer still stands if you have made your decision.” Optimus Prime’s tone was neutral, which was probably intentional so Charlie would not feel pressured with making her choice.

 

“I have.” Charlie nodded.

 

“What do you wish to do?"

* * *

 

Location: Brighton Falls, CA Date: June 16, 1988

 

“Okay, maybe another brush should do it or,” Sally trailed off as she continued to fuss over her daughter’s hair.

 

“Mom,” Charlie gently pushed her parent’s hand away. “We’ve brushed it like fifteen times. I’m pretty sure I look okay.” Her hair was straightened with no knots or frizz in sight. She was also coerced into wearing the same formal sundress from their family photo. It felt weird not having pants on her. At least she had on her mascara since that counted as makeup.

 

“It’s not everyday you’re going to speak with some of the most powerful men in our country’s government,” Sally said worriedly. 

 

“Not all of them,” Charlie tried to calm down her mom with unsuccessful results. “And Optimus Prime and Ultra Magnus are gonna be the ones doing all the talking anyway.”  
  
“Even if that is what happens I want you to at least try to remember to be polite,” Sally reminded her.

 

“And not speak when I’m spoken to. I got it. Really,” Charlie promised as she held both of her mother’s hands. “It’ll be fine, Mom. I’ll be back in time for dinner.”

 

“Somehow I don’t think one afternoon will be enough,” Sally sighed just as a knock came from the front door. Ron answered it and at the threshold was Agent William Fowler.

 

“Are you ready to go Miss Watson?”

 

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Charlie answered the man. She gave her mom and quick kiss on the cheek, hugged her brother, and patted Ron’s shoulder before she left the house. “I’ll see you all later.”

 

“Hey Charlie if there is a chance you could look at the stationwagon later I’d appreciate that,” Ron requested.

 

“I’ll check it out later,” the mechanic waved before Ron closed the door.

 

“Nice dress, are you going to church later?”

 

Charlie gave Fowler a nonplussed stare.

 

Fowler chuckled awkwardly. “Sorry, trying to lighten the mood.” He opened his car door for her.

 

The mechanic’s frown curled slightly. “I never wore this for church actually. My family isn’t religious enough to go there regularly. We mostly just celebrate Christmas and Easter.”

 

“I had a neighbor’s granny who organize these potlucks every first and last Sunday back when I was a kid. Back when we had to carry gramophones around instead of Walkmans.”

 

Charlie couldn’t stop herself from laughing. “Are there any current songs that you like?”

 

Being the brilliant DJ that she was Charlie did find a few stations that one in particular that played classic Rock n’ Roll and some Country. Apparently Fowler liked Chuck Berry and Nashville sounds. Behind the jeep two familiar semi-trucks rolled behind them once they got closer to the air base.

 

“I’m betting those two are Optimus Prime and his SIC?” Fowler observed through his rearview mirror.

 

Charlie turned around to see the trucks. The taller truck honked at them when she waved. “Yep, it’s them.”

 

The three vehicles soon arrived at their destination: McKinnon Air Base. Two soldiers stood at opposite sides of the main entrance. Fowler pulled over to the one on his left.

 

“Name and registration,” the armed guard requested.

 

“Agent Fowler, Army Ranger on special assignment for Sector 7,” he handed his ID tag over to the other man.

 

The solider examined the badge to check for authenticity and handed it back to Fowler. “And the girl?”

 

Charlie wasn’t sure how she felt about being scrutinized.

 

“Charlie Watson. She’s with me,” Fowler answered for Charlie.

 

“And the two… vehicles?” The guard’s stoic appearance faltered when he glanced towards Ultra Magnus and Optimus Prime.

 

“They’re here for our little get together,” Fowler responded smoothly.

 

“I’ll radio in for clearance.”

 

Charlie inwardly sighed at how long this was taking and tried hard to hold back from groaning. This whole situation started to feel ridiculous and they hadn’t even entered the damn air base yet.

 

The guard spoke quietly through his radio for a few minutes and gestured to allow Fowler and the Autobots to enter. “You’re clear.”

 

“Thank you,” Fowler said politely before driving in. He then sighed once the guards were out of earshot. “I must admit that took longer than I thought it would.”

 

“That makes two of us,” Charlie muttered. She rubbed her pointer and index finger against her right temple. Fowler drove them along a few rows of barracks and other buildings Charlie recognized vaguely from when she busted ‘Bee out ten months ago.

 

“I wish I can say the meeting won’t be as tedious but I’d be calling myself a liar.” Fowler then parked the jeep near a hanger, the largest one in the whole base.  

 

Charlie and Fowler got out of the car and were greeted by Agent Burns and Simmons. Burns was in a formal uniform with medals and the works. Simmons just wore a cleaner version of his Sector 7 outfit.

 

“Agent Fowler,” Burns addressed the pilot. “Miss Watson,” he directed to Charlie.

 

“Charlie’s fine,” the mechanic replied.

 

“Uh, it’s proper protocol to call you by your surname,” Simmons clarified nervously.

 

“It would be disgraceful to break protocol,” Ultra Magnus concurred.

 

Simmons yelped in shock from the talking FLC112.

 

“At ease, Simmons that’s just an Autobot,” Agent Burns ordered.

 

“Yes sir,” the dark haired man nearly squeaked.

 

“I still agree with the jumpy one,” Magnus continued.

 

“It would be best to remain formal for the occasion, Miss Watson,” Optimus Prime added.

 

“Not you too,” Charlie sighed at the taller truck.

 

“Agent Burns,” another soldier approached the four humans and vehicles. “Everything is set inside.”

 

“Including our guests?” Burns jerked his head towards Optimus Prime and Magnus.

 

The solider nodded. “Them too.” He then nodded at two other men who stood near the hangar. One of them bobbed his head back and pressed a button. Moments later the two doors slid open. Burns motioned for Charlie and the ‘bots to follow him, Fowler, and Simmons. Inside the hangar less than a dozen older men in various uniform chatted collegially but then quieted when one by one they noticed the arrivals.

 

“Agent Burns and Agent Fowler,” an African-American with a badge that read _Whalen_ regarded. On the side of his uniform he had four stars stitched on.

 

Both agents saluted the superior officer. “General Whalen, sir.”

 

The general kept his hands behind his back and glanced at the trucks. “Where are these two aliens?”

 

TSCHE-chu-chu-chu-TSCHE!

 

Optimus Prime and Ultra Magnus morphed out of their alt-modes and had to partially incline their helms. Magnus had a bit more difficulty as his tall shoulder pads kept knocking against the lights. When he tried to move away from one the tall antennae from his helm broke one light bulb by accident.

 

“Oh,” Ultra Magnus uttered. “I do apologize.”

 

“Try kneeling a bit more,” Optimus Prime instructed his subordinate.

 

The two robots crouched down as they tried not to galumph through the hangar.

 

“I’m to venture a guess that those two semis are the two non-biologicals,” the five-stared general asked. His nametag had the surname _Bryce_ *.

 

“They prefer being called Autobots, sir,” Fowler corrected his direct commanding officer. General Whalen narrowed his eyes at Fowler.

 

“That is the name of their organization, sirs,” Fowler explained readily.

 

“We are autonomous robotic organisms from the planet Cybertron,” the red and blue mech announced after he and Ultra Magnus kneeled at the large table set up for the assembly. “My designation is Optimus Prime. The other Autobot beside me is my Second-in-Command, Ultra Magnus. We’re part of the Autbot Resistance.”

 

“We are honored to be here,” Magnus inclined his helm.

 

“And the young woman?” a man with platinum blond hair motioned to Charlie. “She’s not one of you in disguise?”

 

Charlie opened her mouth but quickly closed it to prevent herself from impulsively saying something she would later regret.

  

“She is human like the rest of you in this edifice,” Optimus Prime responded. “She is here as our ally and interpreter.”

 

“I don’t understand why you have a need for an interpreter since you’re clearly speaking English perfectly fine,” General Whalen questioned. “How are you able to speak our language, if you don’t mind me asking.”

 

“We speak your language thanks to universal translators built in our internal computers. They allow us to understand virtually over billions of languages,” Optimus Prime answered. “It also allows to us to sound as though we are speaking your dialect. It’s a very useful tool.”

 

“Then there’s no reason for the young woman to be here,” the same man that noticed Charlie called out.

 

Charlie bit the inside of her cheek to keep herself from shouting every curse known to man. Including some only known to giant space alien robots.

 

“Charlie Watson has been a great aid in educating my fellow Autobots and I with your planet’s customs and social terminology that even our translators cannot fully comprehend,” Optimus Prime said firmly. “We need her with us in case an instance falls upon us again today.”

 

“She is also a person of interest,” Burns added. “Miss Watson is the only human who has been in direct contact with the Autobots frequently these past few weeks.”

 

“If there’s nothing else left to add we should let the meeting commence,” General Whalen announced though he remained staring at the Autobots and Charlie.

 

Charlie continued keeping her poker face on as she was given a chair and sat next to the kneeling robots. The rest of the government officials took their seats in the substitute war room.

 

“Now let’s get down to business and explain why we’re all here to begin with,” General of the Army, Bryce said. A few officers voiced similar words in agreement. He turned his attention to the Autobots. “Why are you here on this planet?”

 

“Our topmost priority is to establish a base after evacuating from our planet after it fell to the hands of the Decepticons,” Optimus Prime explained. “We wish to remain hidden here in peace under your consent, of course.”

 

A few of the government officials appeared relieved to hear that the giant robot was interested in amity though Whalen did not look convinced. “And you claim you come in peace in spite of a incident that happened at this very base? An incident that involved on of your… people?”

 

Optimus Prime and Ultra Magnus exchanged concerned looks. “If a Cybertronian attacked you in anyway perhaps it might have been a Decepticon,” Magnus suggested.

 

“We have security footage showing a twelve foot tall robot with the same emblem as yours shooting jeeps and men with what appears to be killing intent.” Whalen nodded to a solider whom brought over a television on a wheeled stand. The soldier pressed a button on the TV set. Horizontal lines appeared as the box booted up then they disappeared as an image appeared on the screen. The grainy footage showed exactly what Whalen described, a tall yellow robot with red optics shooting at fleeing soldiers with a seven-barreled cannon from the tip of his arm. 

 

Charlie felt her blood run cold. She remembered that night. With the bombing, all the shooting, and anger so much anger on both sides. The mechanic brushed those memories away and focused on the present. Beside her, Optimus clenched his servos and his optics were narrowed. Charlie could tell straight away that the tape was upsetting him. She gently patted Optimus Prime’s arm to get his attention.

 

“This was back when Sector 7 made the mistake to trust the Decepticons, Shatter and Dropkick,” Charlie got across to the leader as best as she could. “They lied about being law enforcement sent out to hunt their fugitive when in reality they were planning to interrogate him and later kill him for information of the whereabouts of where you were and where you base was going to be.”

  
The red semi ex-vented. “My scout would never attack unless provoked,” Optimus Prime stated evenly to the other humans.

 

“He was,” Burns admitted with a somewhat guilty expression. All of the humans’ eyes were on him

 

“How?” Whalen asked skeptically.

 

“Sir, when Sector 7 had apprehended the scout and brought him to McKinnon, Miss Watson here infiltrated the base to rescue the Autobot. A unit and me attempted to reclamation him and we had assumed that we’d be able to hold him down but we were mistaken. Very mistaken. We were no match against his strength and firepower, because up to that point he never actually fought back.”

 

“And how was the scout provoked into doing so?” an officer asked.

 

Burns’ eyes were glued to the table. “I… had pushed Miss Watson to the ground when she resisted to stand down. He got mad and that's when he attacked the soldiers and me.”

 

Whalen blinked once and stared in disbelief. “You mean to tell me the reason we lost over a million dollars worth of equipment and several men getting severely injured was because of what we can boil down to as school yard bullying?”

 

“Excuse me,” Charlie raised her hand, gaining all of the government officials’ attention. “If I may speak because I have some things I would like to say on Bumblebee’s behalf.”

 

The generals muttered to one another in mild confusion.

 

“Bumblebee is the designation of my Calvary scout,” Optimus Prime answered.  

 

“Bumblebee or ‘Bee as I like to call him most of the time isn’t just a soldier or a liability you might think he is but he’s my friend. Ever since the first night we met he’s been protecting me just as much as I’ve done so for him. He and the rest of his friends may not look like us but they still care and feel like every human I know. Bumblebee wouldn’t hurt anyone unless they’ve done something bad. I promise that no one else would be better at the job of protecting us than them,” she gestured with her hand towards Optimus Prime and Ultra Magnus.

 

“Um, that’s all I had to say, thank you.” Charlie quickly sat back down and stared at the table. At the corner of her eye she noticed Optimus Prime as staring at her. His blue optics narrowed warmly and Charlie also felt that he was smiling at her in approval.

 

For the next hour Optimus Prime and Magnus took turns to explain the details as to why they chose Earth and what the nine Autobots have been doing since Bumblebee’s arrival to rescuing Charlie from the Eukarians. The mechanic and Burns occasionally told their own recollections of what happened. Burns had given out stapled pages of his accounts. Fowler spoke what he barely remembered during the battle between ‘Bee and the Triple-Changers and made sure to mention heavily that it was an Autobot that saved his life.

 

“I think now would be a good time for a brief interval is in order,” General Bryce offered to the rest of the visiting officers. Charlie glanced to a wall and saw a clock read that it was noon. She hadn’t noticed her stomach was growling until then. As the men began to adjourn Charlie accepted Fowler’s offer to go and grab a sandwich for her from the mess hall.

  
“Ask them if they have strawberry jelly and use it instead of grape,” she called out to him. Once he left Charlie got out of her chair and sighed while stretching herself.  She looked at the two trucks worriedly. “Do you guys need anything? Any Energon?”

 

“We’re fine, Charlie.” Optimus assured. “We made sure to refuel before coming to the air base. We shouldn’t need another cube until nightfall.”

 

“This is taking a lot longer than I thought it would go,” Charlie bemoaned. “But I’m impressed that you and Ultra Magnus have been able to keep your cool.”

 

Optimus leaned over and whispered to Charlie’s ear. “The reason I brought Ultra Magnus with me is because he is the least likely to act passive aggressive around the humans.”

 

“Gee, I can’t imagine why the others would act that way,” Charlie muttered dryly as she glanced warily at the soldiers that remained in the hangar. They all kept their gazes on the robots.

 

“Have you always carried such a low view on humanity?” Optimus whispered again to Charlie.

 

“Only around bullies and the government,” was Charlie’s immediate reply.

 

Optimus Prime hummed in acknowledgment. The mechanic wasn’t entirely sure if he was agreeing or disagreeing but it was better than nothing. Ten minutes later Fowler arrived with a PB&J sandwich and a Dixie cup of water for Charlie. She thanked him before she scarfed her meal down.

 

“Careful, unless you wanna choke yourself.” Fowler warned.

 

Charlie swallowed the sandwich pieces she chewed and took a sip of water. “Sorry, it’s been a very long morning.”

 

“It might be a long afternoon as well.”

  
The mechanic’s eyes widened an inch more.

 

Fowler chuckled. “I did say it might be a long meeting earlier, didn’t I?”

 

 _I won’t complain, I won’t complain, I **won’t** complain, _Charlie mentally chanted out her endless mantra. 

* * *

  

Location: McKinnon Airbase, CA.

 

Down a hallway within the same building as the hangar, Burns was in a terse but tense conversation with his superior.

 

“With all do respect sir, that tape stunt you pulled back at the meeting was very inappropriate.”

 

Whalen arched an eyebrow. “That’s with all do respect?”

 

“Sir, we need the Autobots as allies and while they may still be on board with it our side might not be after what they saw. I can’t stress enough how beneficial it would be to have them on our team.” 

 

“Agent Burns,” Whalen called to his subordinate. “Almost a year ago you were against aligning ourselves with these visitors and now you support it?”

 

“The yellow robot called Bumblebee saved mine and Agent Fowler’s life the night he fought Shatter and Dropkick. I was wrong to judge them all in the same light.”

 

“Saved your lives? What could’ve motivated him to do that?”

 

“Honestly, after the way I treated him I was surprised as you are.”

 

“And didn’t you report back to us that the yellow robot escaped,” Whalen recalled as a new thought came to him. “You weren’t withholding any other information that night were you?” 

 

“Sirs,” Simmons interrupted. “The meeting is about to start up again.”  

 

Whalen gave Burns the classic ‘this isn’t over’ stare before the two of them headed back. At that point, though, Burns didn’t give a damn if he would be court martial at the end of the day.

* * *

 

Forty-five minutes passed until the rest of the generals and other government bigwigs returned, according to Charlie’s wristwatch. The second half of the meeting resumed without further interruptions.

 

“Now you were going to explain to us why you request to have your hidden base to be set at an abandoned movie theater?” a government official named Walter Barnett** asked Optimus Prime.

 

“A drive-in technically,” Ultra Magnus said precisely.

 

Optimus Prime reset his vocalizer. “The head of our Spec Ops, Jazz found it while on reconnaissance. We request that be our base because it is the nearest man-made structure to Brighton Falls so that we may be a close enough distance from the Watsons who we have become our protectorate.”

 

“And why is it so important that a civilian family needs protecting from Autobots exactly?”

 

“The answer to that sir is in my report under page 37 paragraph C,” Burns revealed.

 

Barnett flipped through the laminated booklet and skimmed through the page he found. He nodded once in understanding after he read it. The other men at the table promptly read the page as well in order to be up to date.

 

“Wait, this radiation on the Watsons isn’t harmful but it’ll attract other space robots to them?” one officer called out.

 

“We believe that the Decepticons have developed technology that allows them to locate large traces of Energon radiation,” Optimus Prime responded. “Fortunately the scanners are limited to needing to be on the exact planet where the source of En-radiation is.”

  
  
“At least that is what our scientist Wheeljack has theorized,” Magnus added.

 

Charlie held back a groan. She really wished that the Freightliner FLC112 had kept that part to himself.

 

“Are you implying that there’s a chance that these Decepticons might come to this planet again?” Bryce rapped his knuckles.

 

“If there is any chance the Decepticons threaten your planet, my fellow Autobots and I will defend it until the last mech or femm stands,” Optimus Prime declared.  

 

“And how do we know you won’t try to trick us like the other Cybertronians did?”

 

“We would like for the exact opposite to happen, General Whalen,” Optimus Prime affirmed from what felt like the hundredth time that day to Charlie. “What we want is for both of our species coexist on your planet. My people have been scattered from our planet with little resources. We came to this world with the hope that we may regroup, rebuild and take our true home back from the Decepticons. In return we will protect all living beings of Earth with great resolve.”

 

When the generals and military officials still appeared uneasy Optimus Prime stared at Magnus who briskly nodded in agreement.

 

“We are also willing to share minimal access with what little technology we have brought with us if that may appease you in some way,” Optimus Prime furthered.

 

“And this technology you’re planning to share with us would any of it happen to be weapons of some caliber?” All eyes and optics landed on the Caucasian man with blond hair. Charlie remembered that he was the man that kept calling to question why she was at the meeting.

 

“Forgive me but I am having trouble remembering your desig-” Optimus Prime caught himself. “Your name, sir?”

 

“Bishop. Colonel Leland Bishop***,” the man called Bishop responded.

 

“Charlie has informed me that your country is in the middle of a arms race against another country called the U.S.S.R. Am I correct, Col. Bishop?”

 

“Yes,” Bishop answered with mild reluctance.    

 

“As a result we don’t want to directly interfere with your planet’s political affairs. That includes our weaponry.”

 

Bishop didn’t seem happy with that answer. He got up from his seat and then demanded, “How are we supposed to defend ourselves from our enemies and these Decepticons?”

 

“The Autobots are our best and only defense against the Decepticons,” Burns affirmed. “I’ve seen those robots in action and we don’t stand a chance to fight them with our own firepower but the Autobots can.”

 

“I fear that any military involvement may result in disastrous consequences,” Optimus reasoned. “Perhaps you can warrant human casualties, Col. Bishop, but I don’t.”****

 

Not since the beginning of the meeting was the hangar completely silent.

 

“This is outrageous,” Bishop challenged.

 

“Stand down Colonel,” Bryce ordered the lower ranking officer.

 

“But sir-”

 

“Stand. Down,” Bryce emphasized.

 

Bishop appeared very ticked off but did sit back down. Charlie did not miss the glare directed to her that disappeared quickly as it had appeared.  

 

Bryce cleared his throat to gain everyone’s attention. “I say we shall vote whether or not we are interested in allying our country with these Autobots.”

 

The men at the table murmured to one another before they agreed to the idea.

 

Charlie felt her heart thump with worry but was calmed when Optimus placed a servo over her shoulder.

 

“All in favor of allowing the Autobots asylum in America and all that it entails…” Bryce waited until a moment before he raised his hand after everyone made their decision so not to sway the voters’ opinion over his choice.

 

“And all who appose.”

 

Whalen, another man, and (no surprise) Bishop were the only three who voted against. It was seven verses three.

 

Charlie and Ultra Magnus both let out sighs of relief. Optimus Prime straightened himself when Bryce approached the three of them.

 

“I… really hope I’m doing the right thing by putting my trust in you.” Bryce offered his hand to the Autobots’ leader.

 

Optimus Prime glanced at Charlie who nodded encouragingly. The FL86 accepted the hand. “We’ll make sure not to break an already fragile trust and earn your respect.”  

* * *

 

As Optimus Prime and Ultra Magnus gave formal parting words to the higher-ups, Burns stood by to wait for their departure. Charlie Watson took a step next to him.

 

“There are going to be more meetings after this one,” she said as a statement and not a question. A couple of more decisions were made after the vote. From the Autobots needing to report with the U.S. government on a bi-weekly basis on their progress with securing resources for Energon and to formally partnering with Sector 7, to monitor alien activity that may arrive on their planet both malevolent and benevolent. Many additional edicts will be processed in the near future. Many, many more.

 

“’Fraid so, kid,” Burns replied. “But I don’t think you need to be at all of them. You helped the Autobots go over a big hurdle today, them being allowed to stay in this country maters the most.”

 

Charlie shrugged. “I still spoke out of turn though.” She seemed to be ashamed by her previous action.

 

“Personally, I thought the looks on their faces was priceless,” he admitted, in order to add levity to the situation. “It was about time someone stood up to most of them.”

 

“And I guess you couldn’t do it or else you’d get fired?”

 

“That and maybe court martial-ed,” Burns half-joked.

 

“You’re kidding right?” Miss Watson appeared concern.  

 

“Charlie,” Optimus Prime called out. He waved over to her. “It’s time to depart.”

 

“I gotta go,” the eighteen-year-old said. “Thanks… for your help.”

 

“See you around, kid.” Burns offered an open hand and she slowly accepted it with a firm shake.

 

After she left Burns noticed Fowler was talking to General Whalen nearby. He couldn’t help but overhear their conversation.

 

“Burns had no choice to let the Autobot scout and his human ally go in order to ensure that I hadn’t succumbed to my wounds after we crashed,” Fowler answered smoothly.

 

“Is that what happened, Agent Burns?” Whalen asked.

 

Burns nearly hesitated but answered half-truthfully, “Fowler’s life was at risk from a fire within the chopper too. He would’ve died if I hadn’t got to him first, sir.”

 

“You did what needed to be done,” Whalen said after a minute. He dismissed the two agents before leaving the room with Bryce and Bishop close behind. Once they were alone, Burns gave Fowler an intrigued look.

 

“How did you know about my argument with the general?”

 

Fowler inclined his head towards the door where the Autobots and Charlie left. “Those two Autobots’ super hearing can come pretty handy.”

 

“That’s the second time one of them saved my ass,” Burns sighed. “I’m not sure how I can repay them now.”

 

“I would suggest a gift basket filled with petroleum,” Fowler teased.

 

Burns frowned at the former Army Ranger. “You think you’re so funny. Don't you Bill?”

 

“I’m hilarious. You should hear the rest of my material.”

 

Burns waved him off. “Think I’ll pass.” 

* * *

 

Bumblebee paced back and forth, his optics never quite leaving the drive-in’s main entrance.

 

“I can’t believe we ran out of things to keep ‘Bee busy.” Brawn ex-vented. “Twice now we had to convince the kid not to sneak out.”

 

“Well, I thought him helping me with some experiments but you all said no~,” Wheeljack noted.

 

“Because the last time you dragged one of us to help you Energon got splattered everywhere,” Arcee recalled with a slight shudder through her frame.

 

“It wasn’t like it was anybot’s innermost Energon,” Wheeljack reasoned.

 

“It was still disgusting,” Jazz pointed out. The optics behind his visor then widened. “I just got a buzz from Prime. He and Mags and the Lil’ Lady are coming back.”

 

‘Bee immediately stopped moving. “For real?”

 

Jazz chuckled at the scout’s excited demeanor. “Sure as a Seeker who loves to fly.”

 

“There they are,” Ironhide announced while pointing towards the front gates. All seven Autobots gathered nearby as two trucks drove in. Optimus’ horn honked enthusiastically for some reason until the resistance members realized that Charlie was behind their leader’s wheel and must’ve turned his air horn on purpose. When Optimus and Magnus stopped Charlie got out and ran straight to the others before the trucks even transformed out of their alt-modes.

 

“You guys get to stay!” The human cheered enthusiastically. All at once the rest of the Autobots rejoiced. Ratchet was quiet however. He preferred to make merry on the inside.

 

“Great, ‘cause I already unpacked all my stuff.” Wheeljack gestured to his almost completed laboratory.

 

“In spite of me telling you why you should’ve waited,” Ratchet said.

 

Wheeljack grinned. “But it’s good that I didn’t.”

 

“There was still a possibility that it wouldn’t happen.”

 

“But it did.”

 

“You didn’t know yet.”

 

The two of them continued to argue while the rest left to their own devices. Bumblebee went up to Charlie quickly looked over to see if she was okay.

 

“So, now what are going to do?” Charlie glanced at her robotic friend.

 

“Tomorrow I think you should bring your boombox and all of your cassettes.”

 

“Why?”

 

Bumblebee’s optics lit up. “Because we’re gonna need a soundtrack while we build.”

 

“You might need a few extra hands then.” Charlie grinned knowingly.   

 

**End of Chapter 8**

* * *

**Q-A:** Man, this chapter was hard to write. I hope I didn’t bore anyone to death with this one. It’s a bit similar to the scene from the movie with all the military men but I changed some things here namely having Autobots involved with the proceedings and have their side of the story told. And of course Burns now being Pro-Autobot. That’s a major difference but there are now new people who are against them. I can’t make it easy for our heroes after all. Next chapter will be more of a breather than this one. Just a fun little building montage with lots of cute and funny moments among the Autobots and their new human allies.

 

References:

 

* General Bryce is from TFP. I made him the General Of The Army so there would be at least one person ranked higher than Whalen who’d be willing to hear out Optimus.

**Walter Barnett is from the Marvel comics. He’s a Government official there too who becomes a friend to the Autobots after he saw them choose not to fight humans that were attacking them. He’s also well known for “saving” the Throttlebots by putting their brains into toy cars. I personally think there are some ethical questions based on that but that’s just me.  

***If anyone can remember Bishop without looking him up I’ll give you a shout-out in the next chapter. I’ll just have to take your word for it if you claim you didn’t. XD

****Paraphrased line from TFP. I'm sorry if all of you are tired of references from that show (I'm not ;) ) but there will be more from other parts of the franchise soon.  

Songs Used:

 

Chapter title:

One Vision by Queen <\-- I felt it set up the themes for the chapter rather well about how everyone needs to work together to get things done, both in the medbay scene and at the meeting with the military.

 

Keep on Writin’ and Rockin’


	11. All Night Long

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Charlie is gifted jewelry and the Autobots discover pop songs.

**Q-A:** I’m sorry for how long this one came out. I was swamped with work last week and got pretty tired right before the weekend and since it was Easter I spent that with my family. I hope you’re not too mad. So, time for chapter 9!

I wanna give a BIG shout out to **_Midnightdeer, GreenPhoenix3, Cello113,_** and  ** _Lady_Frost_** for being the first to figure out who Bishop is. For those of you who don’t know he’s better known as Silas/CYLAS from TFP.

[SPOILERS AHEAD!]

A.k.a the Son of a Glitch who ordered people to take ‘Bee’s T-Cog. A.k.a the guy that took Screamer’s T-Cog (though he kinda deserved it). A.k.a, the controller behind Nemesis Prime and nearly killed our Dadimus Prime if it wasn’t for Special Agent Fowler. D; A.k.a the SLAGGING Fragger that turned Breakdown into his puppet and crushed the hearts of Knock OutXBreakdown fans everywhere! DX I HATE HIM SO MUCH YOU HAVE NO IDEA~!

[END OF SPOILERS]

*Cough* Ahem. Sorry, I’m still not over that apparently. Anywho, I hope y’all like this chapter. No huge ploty stuff here just some fun times with our heroes. And perhaps some fluff who knows. ;)

 

 **INPORTANT NOTICE:  **I just remembered that on **May 9-12 th **I’ll be up north to see a college graduation. I’m really sorry I didn’t warn ahead of time like before. It totally crept up on me. Anyway, I might not get to write anything while I’m gone but I hope once things calm down after my trip my writing won’t be as infrequent as before. I’m not giving up on this fic. I promise I wouldn’t after all.

 

I ALSO APOLOGIZE FOR NOT PROOFREADING THIS CHAPTER BEFORE UPLOADING IT! I WILL FIX ANY MISTAKES FOUND ON THIS CHAPTER NEXT WEEK.

 

 ** _Disclaimer:_** I do not own The Transformers. It solely belongs to  _Hasbro_  and  _Paramount_. The songs referenced in this chapter belong to their respected producers/singers.

 

Let the music play on  
Feel it in your heart and feel it in your soul  
Let the music take control, we going to  
Parti', liming, fiesta, forever  
Come on and sing my song

 - “All Night Long” by Lionel Richie

* * *

 

Location: Under The Milkyway Drive-in/Autobots’ Base, CA. Date: June 17, 1988

 

June 16th came and went in the blink of an optic for the Autobots as they were busy with cleaning and building. They had worked well into the night right after Bumblebee had dropped Charlie off her home and he returned to the drive-in. In a few short hours after the meeting the government purchased the property and officially allowed the Cybertronians to remain on the premises. A lot of the ‘bots, mostly Jazz, ‘Bee and Brawn celebrated. Wheeljack did not partake in the partying and instead eagerly went to work on helping Ironhide build the new garrisons and possibly a few reinforced steel sheds that could withstand the scientist’s projects. _Could_ being the key word.

 

When Bumblebee brought Charlie to the base first thing that morning he could tell from her stunned expression that she was impressed by their progress.

* * *

 

 

The mechanic knew the Autobots were going to start without her but she had no idea that they would make so much headway. As she and Otis got out of Bumblebee they were in awe of their new surroundings. All of the unfinished buildings were completed and the foundations from before were halfway done. Three large silver and bronze baptisteries stood next to one another in a straight row. Even from a distance Charlie could tell the structures were huge compared to her own house. Two towers were at opposite ends of each other at one corner of the area and the other. Charlie couldn’t help but think that their shapes reminded her of uncapped lipstick tubes. Still, she had to admit that everything looked impressive.

 

“Not bad for a start don’t you think?” Bumblebee asked towards the mechanic.

 

Charlie was speechless over what to say long enough for Wheeljack to appear and break into their conversation.  

 

The Lancia Stratos waved in a very amped manner. “Hiya, Charlie and uh, Odin was it?”

 

“Otis.” the boy corrected in mild annoyance.

 

“Right, sorry.” Wheeljack apologized. “Anyway it’s great ta see ya both. We could always use an extra servo or two around here.” The inventor led the trio to rectangular dwelling, possibly his. “I guess your folks couldn’t make it, though?” Wheeljack observed.

 

“My mom couldn’t come ‘cause she has work and I dropped off Ron at his job before coming here,” she was partially correct but knew the truth was that Sally still had some misgivings being near the Cybertronians. No matter how many times Charlie tried to convince her mother that Autobots were safe to be around the older woman just wouldn’t budge.

 

“Well, you came here at a good time anyway. We’re trying to get de electrical wiring set up. I have some supplies located in my workshop here.” Wheeljack revealed as he manually opened the two panels to his laboratory. Inside the military hangar-sized room dozens of tools, alien technology and other miscellaneous items that Charlie was sure that even scientists at NASA wouldn’t recognize.

 

“The houses took da longest because Optimus insisted on making dem taller, about 8 meters in height, so that Magnus couldn’t hit any lights. Whatever dat means,” Wheeljack shrugged his shoulders as he scooped out long cords of multicolored cables.

 

“You don’t have your solar panels anymore?” Charlie regarded after noticing that the flat energy generators were not in the room.

 

“Not in here,” Wheeljack pointed to a window. Charlie and Otis craned their heads to peer outside and followed where the inventor’s digit was indicating. Nearby were the three domed buildings standing innocently on the concrete ground. Above the trees, the sky was cloudy for the first time in weeks. A large patch slowly moved until it was directly beneath the sun. Instantly after the clouds parted the roofs shifted and flipped sideways as large solar panels replaced the metal awnings.

 

“We used ta have satellites that absorbed the sunlight from nearby stars back on Cybertron,” Wheeljack revealed to the amazed humans.

 

“What happened?” Charlie asked a minute later.

 

Wheeljack looked sadly to the ground. “The war, kiddo. Both Decipticons and Autobots destroyed them so neither side could use the Energon generated from the solar power.” His bummed out expression quickly brightened. “But now that we’re here I can try out all sortsa energy efficient experiments. Try saying that three times fast,” he joked.

 

“What kind of experiments?” Charlie leaned against a table with interest. Behind her, Otis attempted and failed to repeat the tongue twister Wheeljack challenged.

 

“Lotsa ones. Like generatin’ electricity by using giant fans. With the river nearby we could also generate hydroelectricity,” Wheeljack explained with exhilaration. “Oh, and even try getting power through the ground by doin’ something called geothermal energy generating,” Wheeljack spoke so quickly that his fins appeared to be stably lit.

 

“Slow your horsepower, Wheeljack. Some of your science jargon might be going over their heads,” Bumblebee warned as he addressed Charlie and her brother.

 

Charlie shook her head. “I may have graduated but I still remember most of what you just said from my science classes from high school. Otis here, he might need another rundown,” she lightly teased.

 

“Hey,” the twelve-year-old exclaimed in annoyance. 

 

Wheeljack inclined his head to lean closer to the mechanic. His demeanor was now of embarrassment. “Ratchet wanted me to tell you that we’ve also refurbished the bathrooms and the facilities can be of use for you anytime,” he winced at the last line.

 

Charlie held back the urge to roll her eyes. 

 

“Great, ‘cause I need to pee real bad.”

 

Charlie groaned at her brother’s immaturity. “Otis, I told you to go before we left.”

 

“Yeah, but I didn’t need to then,” he shouted as he rushed out of the room. A moment later he poked his head back in and asked, “Where’s the restroom?”

 

“Outside, to the right, pass the silo where we keep our Energon cubes, it’s a rectangular building with the man and women symbols on the doors,” Bumblebee answered passively with a wave of his servo.

 

“Okay thanks,” Otis said quickly before leaving for good.

 

“You’ve been doing all of this less than a day?” Charlie asked in bewilderment. “You have buildings, solar powered generators, and working toilets. I’m having trouble believing the last one, to be honest.”

 

Wheeljack vented pitifully, “I know but with mosta my tools still in my old lab on Cybertron I haven’t been as productive as I woulda like.”

 

Charlie begged to differ. “This is incredible. You’re a real genius and all of this is cool.”

 

Wheeljack faceplating darkened. “’daww, yer making me blush. Ratchet helped with most of it though, which might be da reason nothin’s caught on fire.”

 

“Yet,” Bumblebee muttered while he crossed his arms. Charlie stared at him in confusion at his sudden mood swing.

 

Wheeljack reset his vocalizer. “Listen I just got a memory file ping that I have a project I need ta work on for a nano-klik or two. Would ya do me a favor and take these wires down to da building with da projector? I’ll be with ya in a breem.”

 

Charlie said yes before the scientist handed her the tied up cords. ‘Bee silently put them into his Subspace and they soon exited the building.

 

“We should go find Otis so he won’t get lost on his way back here,” Charlie recommended. “This place is slowly turning into a maze,” she stated in light irritation.

 

Bumblebee made a noncommittal noise in response.

 

Charlie arched an eyebrow. “Okay, so what’s the 411? You’ve been acting strange since we were in Wheeljack’s lab.”

 

The black and yellow Camaro’s faceplate bent into a frown. “Didn’t you also say I was a genius?”

 

“Yeah,” Charlie began after she thought over her words, “but that was for when you found out you could talk through your radio back when you lost your voice. It’s kinda different here.” It then took her less than five seconds to understand Bumblebee’s new behavior. “You’re not jealous, are you?”

 

Bumblebee had the nerve to appear offended. “What? No, no way am I jealous over-”

 

“’Bee.” Charlie cut him off. “Wheeljack may be a pretty choice inventor but he’ll never be my best friend.”

 

Bumblebee immediately stopped his tracks. “I’m your best friend?!”

 

“Yeah, of course,” Charlie said, surprised that this was news to him. “Who else would it be?”

 

“Oh, I thought Memo was,” ‘Bee stared at the concrete ground, awkwardly.

 

Charlie then realized that she never actually called Bumblebee her best friend until then. It was just something she knew and didn’t think it needed to be said because of how obvious it was. It clearly wasn’t for ‘Bee. “I probably wouldn’t have befriended him in the first place if it weren’t for you.”

 

The mechanic noticed how silent her best friend was being.

 

“’Bee, are you okay?”

 

The Autobot shook his helm as though he was clearing some thoughts away. “Sorry, I’m just really happy,” he said with brightened optics. “You’re-you’re my best friend too.”

 

“Aww, thanks ‘Bee. That’s really sweet,” Charlie responded truthfully. ‘Bee could be such a sap sometimes but it was genuinely touching.

 

The two of them ended up finding Otis walking aimlessly around the towers before they arrived to their destination. By the time they arrived, Optimus Prime alerted the Autobots that Agent Burns, Fowler and other soldiers from Sector 7 would be arriving sometime before noon.

 

“Hey guys,” Wheeljack called out after he caught up with the two humans and younger Cybertronian.

 

“What are you hiding behind your back?” ‘Bee observed.

 

“Well, remember dat foot-long spear the Eukarian Thunderhoof had and could shoot out blasts of ESD?”

 

“I don’t have very fond memories of that thing,” Charlie replied curtly.

 

Bumblebee frowned. “Me neither.”

 

Wheeljack smiled uneasily. “Riiight, yeah, forgot my audience for a nano-klik, my bad. Anyway, a few days ago I’ve been tinkerin’ with it and found a way ta make some devices similar to the spear but with less lethal results.”

 

“Why would you build more copies of that weapon?” Charlie asked incredulously.

 

“We’re in a war?” Wheeljack deadpanned. “Also to use as protection. I noticed dat Bumblebee no longer wields his arm blade because he lost it in dat battle with Shatter he told us Autobots about and I made him this,” he pulled out from behind him two boxes made from metal and blue glass. One was rectangular and about six feet in length while the other was smaller than Charlie’s hand. Both the scout and human opened the containers. Inside Bumblebee’s was a dark metal blade shaped like an Isosceles triangle. It had rows of five-inch teeth on the edge with a wide hole in the blade’s center.

 

“May I present ta you da Stinger,” Wheeljack announced dramatically.

 

“What does it do?” Bumblebee appeared wary of the weapon but his tone carried a small hint of interest.

 

“See those empty barrels over there?” Wheeljack pointed to the aforementioned barrels. “Why not test it out on them?”

 

‘Bee stared at the blade contemplating for a few moments before he installed it on his left arm. He aimed his arm towards the barrels before giving Wheeljack a look. The inventor nodded his helm, which Charlie assumed meant it was okay. For an added safety measure though, he motioned for the humans to stand behind him.

 

Bumblebee activated his battle mask on and rolled into a summersault and then leaped into the air and sliced a barrel in half. It split into two perfect halves. The second and final barrel was assaulted after ‘Bee turned the ESD functioning on. Moments later, it exploded after the liquid inside the wood turned into a gas.

 

“Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee,” Otis quoted and then did an elaborate Karate chop. Charlie rolled her eyes and groaned at her brother’s antics. It was only funny when Bumblebee did stuff like that.

 

“It not only slices and dices but leaves a _shocking_ impression,” Wheeljack joked as Bumblebee returned to the group.

 

“This is really good,” ‘Bee genuinely complimented.

 

Wheeljack grinned proudly. “It sure is nice when one of my inventions work. Let’s hope we can go for a number two,” he gestured towards Charlie’s box. She felt her cheeks redden when she realized that she hadn’t opened it yet. The mechanic removed the lid and inside was surprised to see a small gold and black metallic charm. It was the angry bumblebee that resembled the decal she gave to the scout.

 

“Thanks, Wheeljack.” Charlie held the bee charm up for the Camaro and Otis to see. She gently pressed a finger against it.

 

“Careful with that,” Wheeljack warned. “It make look like a fancy new pendent but there’s more than meets the optics with that little piece of metal.” *

 

Charlie quickly removed her finger away. “Wheeljack, what did you do to this?”

 

“Allow me ta demonstrate,” Wheeljack offered an open servo. Charlie placed the charm onto his hand and then he held it between his digits. “Now there are two sides to the little trinket here. Just like ‘Bee’s new Stinger this baby packs a punch. Hey!” he shouted to Brawn who was carrying some lumber nearby. “Can ya help me with a trial with dis device of mine I made for Charlie?”

 

“Oh no.” For the first time Charlie could remember, the demolition expert looked scared. “Last time I helped you with something I was blind in my right optic for a whole Earth week.”

 

“Ain’t dat a bit of an exaggeration?”

 

“Or whattabout the time my chassis was almost melted off?” Brawn tapped his chest for emphasis.

 

Wheeljack frowned. “Well, it didn’t melt that badly but-”

 

“Or the time when my whole frame turned green thanks to a certain experiment you were working on last Tuesday?”

 

“But isn’t half of his frame already green?” Charlie whispered to ‘Bee. The yellow Autobot shrugged.  

 

“C’mon, Brawn where’s your sense of daring, da desire ta trying something new and exciting,” Wheeljack attempted to challenge the smaller ‘bot.

 

“There’s a fine line difference between bravery and stupidity,” Brawn rationalized.

 

Wheeljack ex-vented. “Look, I promise nothing bad will happen to ya.”

 

Brawn furrowed his optical ridges. “No temporary or permanent blindness?”

 

“No.”

 

“My frame won’t be melted off?”

 

“It won’t.”

 

“And the green-”

 

“You’ll just have your normal green like usual,” Wheelajck interrupted tiredly. “Will ya help me or not?”

 

Brawn pressed a servo over his faceplate. “You’ll just be pesterin’ me until I say yes. Fine, what do you want me to do?”

 

“Just stand right there,” Wheeljack commanded. He pressed a thumb behind the other side of the charm. A small bolt of lightning shot out from the piece of jewelry and hit Brawn straight to the chest. Nothing appeared out of the ordinary until it became clear right away that Brawn became immobile.

 

“What did you do?” Brawn grumbled. He attempted to move his digits but could not.

 

“Just like da Stinger, Charlie’s new protection charm can temporarily paralyze a person, autonomous robotic organisms or organic otherwise. I placed the bident capabilities of electrostatic discharge and reconfigured them into the components for ‘Bee’s new weapon and the device that can defend Charlie in a pinch when we’re not around ta do it. I made sure ta lower da power on both devices for obvious reasons.”

 

“And Optimus approved both of these?” Bumblebee eyed the scientist, uncertain.  

 

“He was enthusiastic with the idea.” Wheeljack promised. He returned the bug charm to Charlie. She held it on her palm with concern.

 

“This will protect me, right?” Charlie stared directly at Wheeljack.

 

The Lancia Stratos nodded his helm. “If anyone, mechanical or organic, tries ta lay a servo or hand on ya all you have ta do is press your finger against the back of that little bee charm and a blast of lightning will zap ‘em. It won’t be hard enough to terminate but just knock anybody out.”

 

“And it won’t hit me by accident?”

 

“I’m…” Wheeljack trailed off as he processed the odds and finished, “98% sure you won’t get zapped.”

 

Bumblebee watched Charlie sigh and then remove her necklace. She clipped the angry bee trinket onto her leather string and pushed it next to the other charms that were already attached.

 

“Do I get a cool gadget too?” Otis asked, envious of Charlie and ‘Bee’s gifts.

 

“You can help me out with my next project,” the eccentric genius offered. “I was thinkin’ about buildin’ a teleporter but I haven’t been able to send the entire load from one pad to another-”

 

“Aaaand on that note, we’ll be going,” Charlie intervened and dragged her brother away. As the two Watson siblings departed (the mechanic doing most of the walking-Otis wanted to take on Wheeljack’s request) Bumblebee sheathed his new arm sword and looked to the inventor.

  
“Thanks for making this for me,” the scout said sincerely. “I’m sure it’ll be very useful in the future. I also appreciate the ornament you made to help protect Charlie.”

 

“You know what the best part is about that bee charm?”

 

“What?”

 

Wheeljack’s optics carried a sharp gleam. “You match.”

 

The Camaro’s optics narrowed in shock. “Wheeljack!” he cried indignantly as Wheeljack laughed.

 

“…. You guys remember that I’m still unable to move, right?” Brawn asked off to the side.

* * *

 

Half an hour later, the soldiers from Sector 7 arrived in a few standard military jeeps and trucks that carried large metal girders, glass panels, bricks, and bags of cement mix. Agents Fowler and a tired looking Burns got out of the first jeep that had led the procession.

 

“We would’ve came here sooner but Sleeping Beauty didn’t get up until an hour ago,” Fowler playfully nudged Burns’ shoulder.

 

“You try and organize multiple trips to a hardware store, metal works, and building supply depot in less than twenty-four hours,” the leader of Sector 7 stated.

 

Fowler rolled his eyes. “Should’ve just gone to _Lowes_ , man.” His eyes then trailed over to the Autobots’ base. “What in the Fort Knox is that?”

 

“How did you complete so much of this so quickly,” Burns stated. The other members of the organization had blown away expressions similar to Charlie and Otis’ from earlier. It was rather comical.

 

Wheeljack and the other ‘bots exchanged confused glances. “Is it really? None of de’s buildings are a fraction of da same size like the ones on Cybertron.”

 

“How big are those?” Burns asked.

 

Wheeljack turned on his projector and revealed a three dimensional map of a city landscape on Cybertron. The size was a scaled down version of the real thing but far, far smaller. “Dis is what Iacon, our planet’s capital looks like… or at least it did before the Decepticons showed up.” A couple images of tiny Cybertronians stood next to the colossal buildings for comparison. They appeared less than 1/16th of the rendered structures. “Each standard building has about fifty floors while the more high-end ones are close ta 150. Our planet is nothing but layers of bridges and roads that go around or over buildings. We’ve had a long time constructin’ our world ta put it lightly.”

 

Wheeljack shut off the hologram moments later and addressed the humans, “Are there anymore questions?”

 

The entire group of humans was left gaping in astonishment.

 

Wheeljack reset his optics, “What?”

 

“That’s what Cybertron looks like?” Charlie asked.

 

“Do ya mean no one has told ya guys yet about what our homeworld is like?” The Lancia Stratos crossed his arms.

 

“I told Charlie and her family but I never _showed_ them,” Bee admitted.

 

“It’s incredible,” Charlie said with approval. “Is the entire planet made out of metal?”

 

Wheeljack scratched the back of his helm. “Honestly, I’m not so sure about that. What do you guys think?” He looked over to the other Autobots.

 

They all consulted each other for a few moments before giving out undecided responses.

 

Optimus ex-vented loudly to get everyone’s attention. “What matters now is that we make our new base here habitable for ourselves and future Autobots.” He gesticulated to the areas of the drive-in that still had trash or old buildings that were too damaged beyond repair and needed to be demolished.

 

“Getting all a’ this cleaned up will take a lot of time,” Ironhide stated gruffly.

 

Bumblebee leaned towards to Charlie. “I think now’s a good time to get your boombox and tapes ready.”

 

“Why would we be needing music?” Arcee asked.

 

Charlie shrugged with a grin. “I always listen to The Smiths or another band to get me pumped when I need to clean my bedroom.”

 

“You must not do it a lot if you’re room’s quieter than the garage,” Otis mocked. Charlie glared at him and silently threatened to tackle him.  

 

Wheeljack jumped excitedly. “Oh, I was hoping to try something out if we wanna listen to some music.” He ambled over to a large tower and placed a servo next to a switch. “I’ve been rewiring this here and have been able to intercept the reception and transmission of electromagnetic waves. In laymech’s terms, I found a way ta fix this old radio transmitter and gets some sound waves.”

 

“You fixed the movie theater’s radio,” Charlie beamed with excitement.

 

Wheeljack nodded, proudly. “Mmm-hmm. Just some wiring that needed fixin’. Ya want me to try it out.”

 

“If you do, make sure it’s on a low enough setting so it won’t attract attention from the townsfolk,” Agent Burns instructed.

 

The inventor nodded before getting to work. “Gotcha. I’m already on it.” He connected two wires and suddenly the power went out. Thankfully it was still the middle of the day so no one was tripping or bumbling into each other. But that didn’t mean anyone was happy that the electricity was gone.

 

“Wheeljack,” the Autobots and Charlie bemoaned.

 

“Woops,” the Lancia Stratos rubbed the back of his helm. “I musta put the wrong the cord in the wrong socket,” he narrated as he corrected the problem. “Now it should be fine.” The lights, engines, and other machinery were back online. “Let’s try this again.” Wheeljack flipped the switch and at first all everyone could hear was faint static. The inventor then tapped the pole gently and quickly the static was replaced with music.

 

“Oh,” Bumblebee shook with excitement. “I know this song.”

 

_“Our love’s enough. Transcending us through space and time.”_

Charlie arched an eyebrow at the yellow ‘bot. “You like Hailee Steinfeld?**”

 

“What’s wrong with her?”

 

“Nothing,” Charlie insisted after hearing the hurt tone in her best friend. “She just usually sings pop. It’s not bad, just not my thing.”

 

Jazz chuckled. “Oh, that’s too bad because Lil ‘Bee here can’t get enough of her.”

 

“He’s a big fan.” Arcee said entertainingly.

 

“He listens to her all the time on his radio since he discovered that song two Earth months ago,” Brawn griped.

 

Bumblebee’s faceplate darkened. “Guys~” he whined. “All of her songs are so uplifting and catchy. They’re about not being afraid to love yourself or opening up to other people, it really speaks to me.” 

 

“Really?” Charlie was only half-convinced.

 

“Oh c’mon Charlie, don’t you think the song is bringing you back to life!”

 

“’Bee.”

 

 _“And I know you’re gone but I swear that you’re here-it’s a feeling that won’t disappear,”_ the Calvary scout continued to sing loudly and purposely off-key.

 

“Bumblebee,” Charlie tried to sound like she was scolding him but she had trouble hiding her amused grin.

 

 _“I was looking for something that I couldn’t find-It’s a feeling you give me inside,”_ ‘Bee sang while shuffling in a dance and pointing at Charlie as he said ‘you’.

 

“’Bee,” she said weakly, substantially giving up on stopping him.

 

“Dance with me!” ‘Bee crowed and gently tugged the mechanic.

 

“Whoa,” Charlie mildly yelped but soon replaced it with a laugh as the two stepped along to the beat of the song. Somehow their revelry eased the tension and some of the soldiers laughed in amusement.

 

“With such high spirits I can’t think of a better time to get started,” Optimus Prime announced.

* * *

 

“Use your knees men,” Agent Burns ordered.

 

Fowler, Burns, Simmons, and another guy’s faces were scrunched up comically while they lifted a heavy wooden board. They pushed up with their knees as Burns instructed and in a few minutes they succeeded in elevating the old deadwood above a couple of feet.

 

“Hey!” Fowler shouted to Brawn as he walked by. “Where do you want us to put this?”

 

Brawn answered, “I think near the entrance is fine. Actually I’m heading there myself. I’ll take that for you.” He grabbed the board with one hand and carried it leisurely over his shoulder.

 

“Thanks for the help, humans.” Brawn waved with his free hand.

 

The four men unevenly breathed out with various looks of shock. “We coulda just asked for the robots’ help the whole time?” the other guy gasped.

 

“Well, not all of them can be that strong,” Burns said, trying to save some face.

 

Arcee then walked by holding two more boards while humming an unfamiliar tune. “Good afternoon,” she greeted casually before returning to her lilting.

 

“They’re even stronger,” Simmons gaped.

 

Burns frowned. “Not another word, Simmons.”   

* * *

 

Ultra Magnus stared questionably at the aged shed. Clearly, the small building was beneath any real application with how large the Autobots were. Logically the allowed course of action was to dismantle it and build a more useful structure in its place. However, the Second-in-Command believed that there might be something of possible value from within. Surely, no harm would come into setting a pede inside.

 

Nearby, Optimus, Jazz and Ironhide were contemplating if replacing the chain-link fence with a four and a half meter tall metallic wall would fair better when they heard the Energon-curdling scream of Ultra Magnus. They immediately rushed into action and were joined by Burns. The four of them found the Freightliner FLC112 cowering next to the shed.

 

“What is the emergency, Ultra Magnus?” Optimus Prime looked to see if there were any Decepticons nearby.

 

“Yeah, where’s the fire, mech?” Jazz adjoined.

 

Ultra Magnus’ vocalizer refused to function properly so all he could do was point at the open shed’s floor. On the ground was a brown organic creature with multiple legs and eyes no bigger than a human’s pinky finger.

 

“That’s a spider,” Burns responded dryly.

 

“There are more from within the small room,” the SIC said with a shaky servo.

 

Jazz turned his headlights on and peered into the hut. The light shined on a dozen or so spider webs and twice as many spiders crawling across the walls and hanging delicately on single threads.

 

“Are they dangerous?” Optimus asked Burns.

 

“The only thing life threatening about them are spider bites, but only if you’re allergic to them,” Burns replied. “These house spiders bites would come off as mildly annoying than deadly. But seeing that you all are made of metal I _pretty_ sure you’ll be fine.” 

 

“Just a buncha pests then?” Ironhide pulled out a hose from his Subspace. “Alright, I got this.” A strong blast of water shot out and hit the inside of the small building, removing the eight-legged uninvited guests from there.

 

“I feel so ashamed,” the blue, white and red mech bemoaned.

 

Optimus placed a hand over his subordinate. “There is no reason to be shameful of fear, Ultra Magnus. Just remember to not let it control you.”

 

The smaller Freightliner appeared to want to say something but fell silent.

 

“So in the ten months you’ve been on this planet you haven’t seen one spider before?” Burns inquired with surprise.

 

Ultra Magnus shook his helm rapidly. “Not that up close.”

* * *

 

Inside the fully built medbay, Ratchet was busy finishing up his medical reports from last night. They were supposed to have completed the prior evening but a certain red mech dragged him to join the ‘celebration’. Honestly, it all felt premature in Ratchet’s opinion. They still had so much work left to do and yet all the younger ‘bots were acting as though they had won the war. He understood the reason behind their high spirits had to do with them finding a permanent base and getting settled in but he still expected some restraint aside from Optimus and Ultra Magnus.

 

He could recall far more dignified times from his files. Those memories, they were more than just his history. They lifted him up and flowed like electricity~ The ambulance hadn’t realized it yet but his right index digit started to tap against the table in harmony with a familiar song.

 

 _“What's a pipe dream if you ain't tryin' to do it?”_ Ratchet hummed. _“What's a heartbreak if you ain't cryin' through it? What's a sunset if you ain't ridin' into it? Let's drive into it,”_ his hips started to slowly sway until the rest of his frame dance. He even grabbed a wrench and started to sing the next verse with it as though it were a microphone.

 

The ambulance’s unplanned party came to an abrupt halt when his EM field brushed another’s. He turned around and saw Wheeljack and Brawn failing to keep straight faceplates before they gave up and laughed. Ratchet wordlessly grabbed hold of another wrench on his table and charged after the two of them.

 

“Knock next time, you lugnuts! Knock!” he yelled at their retreating (and giggling) forms.

* * *

 

Atop the stage right below the movie screen were ‘Bee and Charlie. The black and yellow Camaro had led her up there to continue their dance. Charlie was attempting to teach Bumblebee the dance that was heavily used in the official music video for the song.

 

“Okay you need to stand with your feet apart-not that far apart… yeah like that,” Charlie then slowly moved her clenched fists and elbows one side, then the other stiffly.*** “Now slam down your fist and elbow to one side and then do the same with your other arm.”

 

_“I can see you in the night. Comin' through like flashin' lights. When the world is passin' by. Oh, oh, oh.”_

 

‘Bee watched Charlie’s movements and attempted to follow her exactly. His hips swung from side to side and arms seemed to wrap around in a quick motion.**** “Am I doing it?”

 

Charlie recoiled in mild disgust. “No, that’s … I don’t even know that to call that. Please never do that again in my line of sight.”

 

“Ahem,” a nearby voice ex-vented. The two turned to see it was Optimus Prime. He stood there before he too began to move his arms. This time he followed Charlie’s dance flawlessly.

 

_“I can see you in the night. Comin' through like flashin' lights. When the world is passin' by. Oh, oh, oh.”_

The Autobot leader ceased his motions and stood still. His blue optics stared at the younger beings as he patiently waited for their verdict.

 

“Is that why you’re called Optimus Prime?” Charlie somewhat joked and asked sincerely.

 

“That’s a story for another day,” the Freightliner FL86 smoothly moved the subject away. “I need you both to go assist Arcee with some cables that need to be relocated.”

 

Charlie and the Calvary scout accepted the command without question and stepped off the platform.

 

“Hey Charlie,” Bumblebee whispered to the mechanic. “Can you do that again?”

 

“’Bee,” Charlie appeared flushed. “It’s kinda embarrassing.”

 

“Please,” he stressed. “I promise I won’t ask again.”

 

“I seriously doubt that but fine,” the human surrendered. “'Cause I'm bringing you back to life,” she sang in a stage whisper.“And I know that you're gone but I swear that you're here. It's a feeling that won't disappear.”

 

‘Bee’s antennae perked up and his optics brightened. He could obviously tell Charlie didn’t mind to sing but she preferred not to with an audience. She was probably under the assumption that only the yellow Camaro could hear her but Optimus and other Autobots nearby had very sensitive audials. Naturally, ‘Bee chose not to tell her so the moment wouldn’t be ruined.

 

Optimus watched the two leave with sentimental optics. He lifted his arm and activated a small holo-picture. His optics glistened as he stared longingly at the moving image of what appeared to be a pink femm. She was taller and older looking than the Autobots Communication Expert and had a differently shaped helm.

 

_“I was looking for something that I couldn't find-It's a feeling you give me inside.”_

 

 _Indeed you do_ , Optimus thought wistfully before he dropped the nostalgic feelings and returned to his more collected persona.

 

He knew better than to mix his work with his private life.

* * *

 

 

Time passed until it was long into the late afternoon. Aside from the sporadic dancing and short breaks, the Autobots and humans were glad to say that they accomplished substantially that day.

 

“I’m sorry about acting like a hoser earlier. You know, when I got jealous.”

 

Charlie gently patted his arm. “It’s alright, ‘Bee. Just try to talk to me next time if something’s on your processor. Remember what Ratchet and Optimus Prime said about communicating with each other.”

 

“Yeah, you’re right. We don’t want to end up like Optimus and his ex-friend.”

 

“Do you have any idea who that might’ve been?”

 

'Bee shook his helm, “Not a clue.”

 

Charlie scrunched her eyebrows together when she realized something important. “Where’s Otis?” She and Bumblebee quickly scanned the crowd with worry. Nearby Burns was speaking to Simmons and a woman S7 agent with the name Coker on her black uniform. Wheeljack talked animatedly to Optimus and Ultra Magnus while pulling out a filmy iridescent fabric that shimmered like a rainbow in the light.

 

“Ow!” Charlie and ‘Bee’s head and helm snapped into place towards the sound they immediately recognized came from Otis. Behind a triangular stack of human-sized pipes two people emerged from the shadows. They were Charlie’s brother and an older man in a white trenchcoat with equally white hair that stood out on end. Everyone was no quiet as they watched the scene unfold.

 

“Excuse me, I found this little snoop poking his snot-nosed schnozzel around here,” the man scowled as he harshly dragged Otis by his arm.

 

“Let go of my brother,” Charlie demanded before she walked over to the old man and pulled Otis away from him. She glared deeply at him while checking over the younger Watson.

 

“Who’s the ray of sunshine over here?” Ironhide asked aloud, not at all hiding his annoyance.

 

“Why I am Dr. Arkeville,”***** the man pompously declared, indifferent to the red ‘bot’s snark. “A genius of science and the new head of Sector 7’s Research, Engineering and Development Division or R.E.D.D for short.” He sneered at the curly haired boy’s direction. “I was busy detailing the supplies the non-biologicals promised to us when I spotted that … child playing around the yard. He clearly is far too young to be a part of Sector 7, nor was he wearing proper uniform. Naturally I apprehended the miscreant before he did any damage to the provisions.”

 

“If you’re such a genius then you’d already know that kid you ‘apprehended’ isn’t just some civilian,” Fowler reprimanded. “He’s under government protection. Her included,” the black man gestured to Charlie. "It's all in the report if you had bothered reading it as you obviously didn't."

 

“And you should’ve been more worried for the kid’s safety than some hardware,” Burns pointed out.

 

Dr. Arkeville appeared disgruntled when he realized that no one was sympathizing with his case.

 

“Just get back to work, Arkeville,” Burns ordered tiredly.

 

“That’s Doctor to you,” the scientist grumbled and muttered something about having a doctorate before stalking away.

 

Ironhide grunted and shook his helm. “Primus, and here I thought crazy ol’ Shockwave was a pretentious little piece of-”

 

“Ironhide,” Optimus Prime interrupted his friend.

 

“That’s no way ta treat a youngin’ or a lady,” the red van muttered.

 

“Is he really your head scientist?” Wheeljack asked nervously.

 

“After our former head of R.E.D.D, Dr. Powel, was killed in the line of duty the higher ups sent him from Washington,” Burns explained and thumbed at Arkeville's retreating form.

 

“They must’ve gotten tired of his blowhard attitude and sent him here so he’d be our problem,” Fowler suggested jokingly… maybe.

 

“And I’ll need ta work with him won’t I?” the Autobots’ head scientist ex-vented.

 

“He’s not great at the whole human interaction thing but the Pentagon sent him here for a reason,” Burns tried to mollify.

 

“That’s still not a no,” Wheeljack noted.

 

“Are you okay Otis?” Bumblebee approached Charlie and her brother.

 

“That guy’s hand was sweaty,” Otis complained.

 

“He’s fine,” Charlie answered with an eye-roll.

 

Bumblebee checked his chronometer saw it was 33 past 1600 hours. “It’s getting close for you to get your evening subsistence.”

 

“But I wanna explore some more,” Otis whined.

 

Charlie stared pointedly at her brother. “So you can get into more trouble when I’m not looking? As if. ‘Bee’s right, we need to jet so Mom won’t chew us out if we’re late for dinner.”

 

“Fine,” the boy reluctantly gave in. Bumblebee thought that was the best time to get out of his root form and into vehicle mode. Charlie and Otis loaded themselves inside. ‘Bee got permission to return to the Watson’s residence from Optimus and Charlie drove them back home.

 

“You know, the sooner we’re home the sooner we can pack,” Charlie added, which helped Otis looking less bummed out than before.

 

He then asked, “Didn’t you promise Ron you’d look at the stationwagon?”

 

“Aw, shoot.” Charlie groaned tiredly. “I thought there was something I was forgetting.”

 

“Maybe it won’t have any issues,” ‘Bee said soothingly.

 

“It better not. We need it for the camping trip this weekend,” Otis reminded Charlie.

 

“What’s camping?” ‘Bee asked.

 

Charlie stared at the dashboard, incredulously. “Really? They don’t have camping on Cybertron?... Oh, right you don’t have trees or any plant life for that matter.”

 

“It’s when you go to the woods, set up a tent, start a fire, roast food over it and rough it like real men,” Otis excitedly explained to Bumblebee.

 

“Real men that can’t last a day without playing Pong, right?” Charlie joked.  

 

“Sounds like survivalist training to me,” the Camaro said.

 

“It’s actually a lot of fun,” Charlie promised. “But we can only go if the stationwagon is drivable." 

 

“How’s your creat-mom,” ‘Bee corrected himself. “Going to get to work?”

 

“We were kinda hoping you could do that since your car form isn’t big enough to carry all of our camping supplies.” Charlie and Otis both gave ‘Bee begging looks.

 

“You just kinda sprung that on me,” Bumblebee called attention to and further added, “Will your mom be okay with it?”

 

An uncomfortable silence followed for what felt like an eternity to ‘Bee and then Charlie said, “It’ll be fine. Mom will be cool with having to drive with you.”

 

 _I have a bad feeling about this_ , the yellow Autobot thought cynically as they drove back into a recognizable garage.

 

**End of Chapter 8**

* * *

 

 **Q-A:** Do I really need to put a* after Bumblebee’s last thought? I think we all know the reference is from _Star Wars_ , right? Anyway I want to apologize again for how long it took for this chapter to come out. I work at a movie theater and we were super busy when Endgame came out and I was too tired to complete this sooner when I got off from my job. Other personal issues got in the way too and I have no idea of _Detective Pikachu_ will be as crazy but I’ve already started working on Chapter 9 and will have it uploaded once I have it completed.

In case you didn’t read my AN at the top I want to remind everyone that **I’ll be gone from May 9th-12th** for a friend’s college graduation. I don’t think I’ll get anytime to write with how short the trip is but I will be working on my story some more in the days after.

 

The dancing Ratchet goes out to all the Ratchet "the Party Ambulance" fans out there. You know who you are. ;)

 

I wonder who was that in Optimus' photo? Maybe we'll never know.

 

References:

 

*Transformers! More Than Meets The Optics! XD

** Yep, I know this song is from 2018 from the BumbleBee soundtrack but I really wanted to put it in after seeing the episode of The Voice where Hailee sang it since it had an animation of Bumblebee watching it and that gave birth to the headcanon that Bumblebee is a fan of hers. Also if the song _It Takes Two_ by Rob Base & DJ E-Z Rock was in the movie even though the song originally came out in 1988 I think I can get a pass. XDD

***That’s the Robocop dance. It originated during the 1980s inspired by the movements of the titular main character from the 1987 film. I found this neat website that showcased 15 of the most popular dance moves from that decade. They’re a lot of fun to watch. Kinda makes me wish at least half of them would make a comeback. Here’s a link: https://www.theodysseyonline.com/moves-80s

****Well, if I wasn’t going to hell before I am now because I made Bumblebee do the Floss! DX Well if Shazam and Wreck-it Ralph did it then I might not get into too much trouble? … Feel free to send me all the hate comments you want. :[

*****Dr. Arkeville is from the original cartoon. (See, not all the characters in this story are from the Aligned continuity.) And R.E.D.D isn't from official Transformer media. I made that up. :D 

 

Songs Used:

 

Chapter title: All Night Long by Lionel Richie

Back To Life (80’s remix) by Hailee Steinfeld < \- - I’m using the Back To Life (80’s remix) for the story since well it sounds like something from the 80’s.

 

Keep on Writin' and Rockin'

 

 


	12. That's My Job

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey, remember when this story had action in it? With mystery, intrigue and fights between giant robots? I don’t.

**Q-A:** Hello, my fellow TF fans. Happy Pride Month! I’m so sorry it took so long for me to upload this chapter. Considering that it’s currently my longest one with over 10000 words. Yeah, that’s a lot. I also just had so many work days that I was too wiped out from writing afterwards. And, I’ve also been binge-watching _Beast Wars_ on Netflix (disc, not stream) and currently my favorite characters are Rhinox, Tigatron and Dinobot for obvious reasons. ;) I want to give major shout outs to all the lovely people who still gave my word kudos while I was away. You’re all amazing and I love you all so much. ^-^ I promise to put more writing hours into every week. I swear it.

 

 ** _Disclaimer:_** I do not own The Transformers. It solely belongs to  _Hasbro_  and  _Paramount_. The song referenced in this chapter belongs to its respected producers/singers.

 

 **Warnings** for this chapter are:

swearing and violence.

  

And he said ‘That's my job,  
That's what I do.  
Everything I do is because of you,  
To keep you safe with me.  
That's my job you see.’

 - “That’s My Job” by Conway Twitty

* * *

 

 

Location: Brighton Falls, CA. Date: June 17, 1988

 

“Dammit!” Charlie cried out as hot steam hit her. She backed away and scowled at her reddening hand. The mechanic rushed back into the kitchen and soothed the burn with cold water. It stung at first but she soon felt momentary relief.

 

“Charlie?” Sally entered the kitchen after she heard her daughter’s scream. “What’s wrong with you hand? How did it get burned?”

 

“’radiator in the car isn’t working,” Charlie jerked her head back to the stationwagon. “The engine was overheating long since you’ve brought it home earlier.”

 

“Why was the radiator leaking?” Sally approached the green and brown car. The nurse took a careful step back after she noticed the steam still billowing from the closed hood.

 

“Corrosion,” Charlie answered as she carefully bandaged the burn with soothing aloe underneath a _Band-Aid_. She inwardly sighed with relief from the fading pain.

 

Sally muttered a swear. “I knew buying that car at half-price was a bad idea. Is there any chance to replace it,” she asked aloud.

 

In the living room Otis paused his game and stared at the two women.

 

“I’m already calling Sparkplug,” Charlie announced. She dialed the number and heard the usual ringing sounds until the professional mechanic and carwash owner answered. “Hey Sparkplug, you wouldn’t happen to have a radiator for a _1972 Oldsmobile_ do you?” She groaned while waiting for the guy to stop his brief chuckling. “Well, do you know another mechanic who might have one?”

 

Neither Sally or Otis could hear Sparkplug on the other line but they had a good feeling what his answer was as they watched Charlie’s expression falter.

 

“All right. Thanks anyway.” Charlie hung up the phone and responded to her mom and brother’s expectant stares. “Sparkplug said that he’s out and that the chances of other places having the one we need are slim.”

 

“Can’t he just order a new one for us?” Sally suggested.

 

“He said it would take a week for new one to be delivered,” Charlie answered. Inside the living room a large noise was heard. It sounded like something was thrown to the ground and then Otis rushed out of the room.

 

“Otis!” Sally called out but she was ignored.

 

Ron yelped after nearly getting run over by his stepson. “I couldn’t help but overhear about the car. I’m really sorry. Maybe we could try getting a rental?”

 

Sally nipped that idea in the bud. “This late?” she rebuffed. “Right before Father’s Day? That won’t happen.”

 

“Maybe we could take Bumblebee,” Ron started.

 

Charlie cut him off, “He doesn’t have enough trunk space for all our camping gear.”

 

“What about one of his friends then?” Ron stated the obvious.

 

“What?” Both Charlie and Sally said together.

 

“I think it’s not a bad idea,” he added quickly.

 

“I’m pretty sure the Autobots have more important things to worry about than whether or not our camping trip is on or not,” Charlie said, deadpanned.

 

“And there’s no way bringing a giant robot to a public camping site could work,” Sally expressed. “Especially on one of the busiest weekends of the year.”

 

“Go ask ‘Bee.” Otis called out, silencing the others. “We can’t ask our neighbors if we could borrow their cars since they’re all busy with stuff. Just go ahead and ask ‘Bee if there is a chance one of the Autobots can help,” the twelve-year-old told his sister.

 

Charlie sighed but gave in. “It can’t hurt,” she said to her mom and stepfather.

 

Ron shrugged. “It’s what I offered up in the first place.” They all looked to Sally.

 

The nurse pinched the bridge of her nose and exhaled. “If there really is no other choice. I seriously don’t want to make a big deal about this.”

 

Charlie’s mouth twitched upward as she walked back into the garage and then outside where Bumblebee was parked in his vehicle mode. She opened the car door and entered it.

 

“Are you okay? I really wish I wasn’t out here so I’d know if you were fine.” Bumblebee lamented.

 

“It’s just a minor thermal burn, ‘Bee. I’ll live,” Charlie said reassuringly. It was nighttime and the sky above, pitch black. She didn't have to worry about any of her neighbors seeing her and think she was talking to an inanimate car. “Listen, there’s something I need to ask.”

 

‘Bee buzzed curiously. “About what?”

 

“The stationwagon’s radiator is finished and we’re going to need to get a new one.”

 

“The car has no way to cool itself?” The Camaro’s frame shuddered. “Oooh, that sounds painful.”

 

“The earliest we can get a new one would take a week.”

 

“A week without the stationwagon is definitely not a good thing,” Bumblebee declared. 

 

“Yeah, but the worst part is that we don’t have a big enough car to take Ron, Otis, and me and our camp gear to Yosemite this weekend.” Charlie said further.

 

“Huh, I thought Friday counted as the weekend. Or is that only during the summer,” ‘Bee recalled Charlie’s lessons about ‘Summer Break’ and why she and Otis were not in school yet.

 

“We couldn’t go today because of Ron’s job but he has tomorrow through Monday off and we were supposed to go tomorrow morning. But now we can’t.”

 

“You can’t go ask someone for another vehicle?”

 

“Ron already asked that but Mom’s pretty sure renting one or asking a neighbor for one of theirs is out of the question,” Charlie sighed.

 

“What if you told them you really, _really_ needed it big time.”  

 

Charlie smiled weakly at her friend’s sincerity. “I don’t think that could work. Actually, the reason I came out here was to ask you if…”

 

“If what?”

 

“If-itwouldbealrighttoaskoneofyourfriendstodriveustoYosemite?”

 

“… Charlie I know how to speak over 1.8 billion languages but what you just said sounded like pure nonsense. I’ve heard Junkions speak more fluently than that.”

 

Charlie groaned and rubbed her forehead. “Can my family ask one of your Autobot friends to take us to Yosemite just for this weekend?”

 

Silence filled the car’s interior for a longer time than Charlie would have liked. A full minute passed before ‘Bee spoke.

 

“I-I can’t make any promises, but I can go ask Optimus if he’s fine with that idea. We’re not exactly in the middle of battle right now, but I can’t say for sure if that means one of them could take a shore leave. Are you sure I can’t go with you instead?”

 

Charlie stared longingly at the steering wheel and patted it. “We’ve been over this, ‘Bee. You’re not big enough to carry all of the camping supplies. Besides, now that the stationwagon isn’t safe to drive you’ll need to be here for my mom to take you to her job at the hospital.”

 

Bumblebee childishly let out a sour buzzing noise. “That’ll be so boring.”

 

Charlie playfully rolled her eyes. “Would you rather stay cooped up in the garage all day instead?”

 

“If it means a movie marathon then yes,” Bumblebee responded smartly.

 

Charlie snorted. “Don’t ever change, ‘Bee. So, you will try and ask Optimus Prime to let someone help us?”

 

“Yeah, but don’t expect him to say yes.”

* * *

 

Location: Autobot Base, CA. Date: June 17, 1988

 

“And while you are sitting together by the fire, you intend to consume schmoes?”

 

“They’re called s’mores,”* Charlie politely corrected Optimus Prime.

 

The Freightliner reset his optics, “Ah, yes of course. It would stand to reason that this camping you do with your clan is of great importance.”

 

Charlie shrugged, “I mean, it’s been a Watson tradition since forever. It means a lot to Otis and me but it would be a bummer if we skipped out again this year.”

 

Optimus Prime hummed in deep thought as he placed a servo under his shielded chin.

 

Nearby, Brawn leaned against a barrel of oil next to Jazz while the Porsche looked through his search history for a song he could not remember the name of.

 

“Mech, do I feel sorry for whoever Prime drags to go on that mission,” the demolition expert whispered to Jazz.

 

“Brawn, you shall escort Charlie and her clan to their camping expedition,” Prime announced.

 

The Land Rover winced and covered his faceplate.

 

Jazz smirked at the smaller ‘bot, “What’s the Earth phrase that Charlie taught me? Oh yeah, ‘Don’t jinx it.’” He horselaughed.

 

Brawn gritted his denta and approached Optimus. “Prime, I can’t go. We’re supposed to trek to Tamalpais to extract Steeljaw’s ship. You’ll need me,” he protested.

 

Ironhide, who stood by Prime, shook his helm. “Nah, with Prime and Magnus’ strength and some assistance from Sector 7, we’ll have enough help. You ain’t needed for this mission.”

 

 _You ain’t needed._ Brawn felt his Spark chamber constrict from some foreign emotion that he quickly pushed back. “You can’t possibly be serious about sending me on some cushy mission. Can’t they just go by themselves?”

 

“Brawn,” Optimus’ tone lowered down an octave, getting everyone’s attention. “Charlie and her clan are under our protection, no matter where they are. If they are going on an excursion, one of us must be there to stand guard. We cannot leave them alone, not after Steeljaw and his followers abducted Charlie.”

 

Brawn was alarmed by the Prime’s harsh inflection but tried to save face by saying, “Isn’t that supposed to be ‘Bee’s assignment?”

 

“The Watsons’ standard mode of transportation is temporarily out of commission at the moment,” Arcee reminded Brawn. “He needs to stay behind to assist Charlie’s mother to drive her to and from her job. They also can’t change their reservations because all the other weekends until October are booked. Is that correct, Charlie?”

 

The human in question nodded.

 

“And ‘Bee has no trunk space anyway so he can’t go instead,” Ironhide added with a slight chuckle.

 

The Camaro sulked, “Do you _really_ have to keep bringing _that_ up?”

 

“Seriously guys, you’re making ‘Bee feel all self-conscious right now,” Charlie chastised the others.

 

“Brawn,” Optimus spoke again, which gained the smaller ‘bot’s attention. “Aside from Bumblebee, you will draw the least attention in your Land Rover form. The rest of us are far too discernible.”

 

“I shoulda picked the blue Datsun back at the auto show,” Jazz ex-vented. “… Or maybe a Pontiac.”**

 

“Those are still pretty eye-catching cars, Jazz.” Charlie pointed out.

 

“Ya still consider cars with one color on them flashy?”

 

Charlie sighed.

 

“The mission just feels so-beneath me,” Brawn regarded adamantly.

 

“No mission is too small,” Optimus encouraged.

 

“Or maybe it’s the right size for ‘im,” Ironhide teased.

 

Brawn turned his helm slowly at the red van. “Excuse me?” 

 

“Oh no,” Bumblebee face-palmed.

 

“You wanna tussle ya big actuator,” Brawn challenged the Security Lieutenant.

 

Ironhide chuckled while he rested his servos on his hips, “I think yer just actin’ like a robot chicken.”

 

“Nobot calls me a robot chicken!” Brawn roared before he and the bigger mech formed battle stances.

 

“Ahem!,” Optimus reset his vocalizer, loud enough to end the verbal beat-down before it became physical.

 

Brawn stared at the concrete. “Sorry, Prime.”

 

Optimus turned his helm and looked at his Weapons Specialist. “Ironhide?”

 

“Sorry about yankin’ yer crankcase like that,” the Dodge Caravan rubbed the back of his helm sheepishly. 

 

Brawn muttered something under his breath and turned his helm away. His HUD notified him that someone was pinging him.

 

::Listen here, you better agree to what Optimus says:: Ratchet practically screeched in Brawn’s processor. ::Like it or not, you owe Charlie for the help she did to get that shrapnel out of your shoulder. Consider this weekend you returning the favor::

 

Brawn remained silent as he considered what the field medic said. It was true Charlie did help save him back then and he hated not paying back a debt.

 

“Fine,” Brawn conceded. “I’ll do it.” _I still don’t like it, though_. he thought the last part to himself.  

 

Optimus Prime nodded with satisfaction. “Very well. I suggest you collect what provisions you’ll need for the next seventy-two hours you will be away from the base. You are dismissed.”

 

Brawn nodded. “Sir.” He saluted before heading to the barracks.

 

“Charlie, Bumblebee.” The two of them gave their attention to the Autobots’ leader. “Be sure to lead Brawn to the Watson residence since he hasn’t been there before.”

 

“Yes sir,” Charlie saluted the human way while ‘Bee did his fist pump.

 

Brawn returned a few kliks later and joined Charlie and the Calvary scout by the base’s entrance.

 

“Don’t forget to keep your windows tinted while we drive through Brighton,” ‘Bee instructed.

 

“I know,” Brawn grunted. “I’m not a youngling.”

 

Charlie pushed her head through ‘Bee’s open window and stared directly at the yellow/green mech. “I really appreciate you saying yes Brawn,” she said genuinely.

 

Brawn pursed his dermas and his faceplate warmed with shame. He covered himself by transforming into his alt-mode and turned his headlights on. “Yeah, just don’t expect me to start softening up around you or your family during the trip.”

 

Charlie breathed out a laugh. “I never said I wanted you to.”

 

“We should get going,” Bumblebee stated. “It’s getting close to midnight.”

 

“Right,” Charlie dragged out. “We’re gonna be waking up pretty early to pack everything in Brawn and to try and beat the traffic.”

 

“Are you ready Brawn? Brawn?” ‘Bee called out to the older Cybertronian.

 

Brawn was using his audials to listen in to the commands Prime was making to everyone else. “Autobots,” the red and blue Freightliner said distantly. “Once Sector 7 arrives tomorrow morning we shall scope the Tamalpais Mountain to take possession of-”

 

“Brawn.” ‘Bee honked his horn, which snapped the demolition expert away from Prime’s diction.

 

The yellow and green mech ex-vented. “Sorry, I heard ya. Let’s go.” He turned his engine on and followed the Camaro.

 

 _Stay positive, Brawn. I’m gonna be the first mech besides ‘Bee to be doing a solo mission on this planet. If I remain calm I’m sure things won’t go bad tomorrow,_ the mech thought to himself as he drove down the road.

* * *

 

Location: Somewhere near Tracy to Escalon, CA. Date: June 18, 1988

 

 _Me and my big intake_ , the Land Rover inwardly grumbled. The already long four-hour trip to Yosemite had crashed to a literal halt. Brawn was forced to move at an Earth snail’s pace against the long line of traffic. All around him, Earth vehicles honked and trudged along the gray expressway eastbound for Modesto, Stockton and a few other places near the park.

 

 _Primus, I could go for a battle with a horde of ‘cons right now_ , Brawn thought tiredly.

 

Out of boredom, Brawn wondered how the occupants inside him were doing. It turned out that they appeared just as jaded as he felt. Charlie was listening to Earth tunes on her _walk-man***_ but her half-closed optics gave away how she really need to recharge. Beside her the younger human Otis, who Charlie claimed was her brother, held their vermin-pet- _dawg,_ Conan on his lap. Sometimes, the small human would attempt to flick two of his fleshy digits against Charlie’s arm but she was beat him to it and he eventually ceased his actions. In certain ways their interactions reminded Brawn of two other siblings in the Autobot resistance that he knew and hoped he would not have to see again for a very, very long time. If he had to hear that certain ‘bot complain about his paintjob again it would be far too soon. The tallest of the three humans, the one designated as Ron tried to keep the energy lively by chatting away stories uninteresting enough not to pay attention to.

 

Brawn did not know why but he was not happy seeing the humans suffering from the long traffic anymore than he did. Something inside his processor told him that he should try to liven things up. But how? He wasn’t as good as cracking jokes like ‘Bee. He had none of the charisma that Jazz wafted from his EM field. And he could not draw anyone’s attention by just resetting his vocalizer exactly like Prime could.

 

All Brawn was good at was lifting things five times his size without overheating.

 

 _You ain’t needed._ Brawn shook that memory vocal bit away. He would show them.

* * *

 

Charlie bobbed her head to the music of Bowie when a huge guitar riff resonated through the air, which forced her, Otis and Ron to wince and cover their ears.

 

“OW!” Charlie glared at the radio and to the extent Brawn. “Will you turn that off?”

 

The radio’s sound disappeared instantly. “What? Don’t you like hearing music to pass the time?”

 

“What you were playing was way too loud,” Charlie explained.

 

“Yeah, like up to an eleven.” Otis added.  

 

Brawn let out a noise of understanding. “Guess I got carried away there.”

 

Ron shifted across his seat and looked into the rearview mirror. “Why don’t you two look to see if there’s a McDonald’s or other fast-food place nearby we could stop at? I’m sure we’ll feel a lot better after some lunch and the traffic might lighten up afterwards.

 

“That sounds like a good idea,” Charlie admitted.

 

“Yeah,” Otis agreed. “And I think Conan needs to go the bathroom or else he’ll pee on the car seat.”

 

“How long until the next rest stop?” Brawn urgently asked.

 

Ron read a passing sign and answered, “Not for another fifteen miles.”

 

Behind him the small dawg started to whimper and look out of the window.

 

"Stay strong, Brawn," Charlie heard the Land Rover repeated to himself. "Stay strong."

* * *

 

 

After one rest stop-without any _accidents_ -the Land Rover finally arrived at the main gates of Yosemite National Park in the early afternoon. At the entrance, a human in a forest ranger’s uniform had the name Jeff on his badge.****

  
“Good afternoon,” the ranger greeted Ron. “Can I get a name and proof of identification please?”

 

While Ron gathered the papers that proved he made a reservation, Charlie took out her Polaroid and took a couple shots of the mountainous scenery.

 

“Why are you taking pictures now?” Otis asked his sister. “There’s a lot of cooler places inside,” he additionally said.

 

“I know,” Charlie responded, mildly annoyed of her brother’s tone. “I just want to take a few to show my friends when we get back home.”

 

“You mean for the robots and Memo?”

 

“Yes,” Charlie answered flatly. “But don’t say the r-word when we’re out in public, remember?”

 

“Yeah, but they’ve been to plenty of forests while they were hiding here on Earth,” Otis reminded.

 

Charlie sighed. “There’s nothing like Yosemite. The mountains and waterfalls here are totally awesome. Can you relate?”

 

Otis shrugged. “Yeah, but not as cool as giant metal buildings.”

 

“I thought you wanted to go on this trip?” Charlie accused.

 

“I still do.”

 

Charlie stared at her brother, unconvinced. “Really? You don’t sound super enthusiastic.”

 

“I so am.”

 

“Hey guys,” Ron called out to the bickering siblings. “I just wanted to let you know that they’re letting us in. But they wanted to warn us about some bear sightings that have been reported.”

 

“Bears?” Brawn said quizzically after they drove into Tioga Road.

 

“They’re wild animals,” Charlie explained. “They’re way bigger than Conan and nowhere near as friendly as him. The bears near us are either have black or brown fur.”

 

"Remember kids, if it's black, attack. If it's brown, lay down," Ron advised.

 

“We know,” Otis and Charlie answered automatically.

 

“Oooh, in that case can I fight the black bear if we find one?” Brawn asked excitedly.

 

“We try not to look for fights with bears, Brawn,” Charlie said truthfully.

 

Brawn ex-vented. “Well, that’s no fun.”

* * *

 

A half hour passed when the arrived at Tuolumne Meadows after driving down southeast. The area was flat with trees spread out and two waterways split into a fork. In the grass there were small patches of wild flowers. Insects, Brawn still hoped were not metal consumers, hovered near the plant life or danced over the water. A sign at the front warned human campers not to damage any of the flora and not to feed the fauna. It also had a large sign that read No Fireworks inside a circle with a line crossed over it.

 

They just want to torture me at this point, don’t they? Brawn thought sardonically as Ron parked him at their registered campsite. Number 51 in Section A was its name. The spot was a little ways down from the other sites, where a few trees acted as a natural wall that obscured a decent percentage of the space. In the center was a concrete fire pit and nearby was a rectangular box made of steel.

 

“Alright,” Ron said once he, Charlie and Otis were out of Brawn’s interior. “Let’s unload our stuff.”

 

“The sooner you do that, the sooner I don’t have to stay in this form,” Brawn added.

 

Charlie winced before saying, “I think you should stay in vehicle mode until night fall.”

 

A long second passed before Brawn dryly responded, “…What?”

 

“There are too many people out here and they could see you.”

 

“But I’ve been stuck like this since before sunrise,” Brawn complained.

 

“I’m really sorry.” Charlie apologized. “It’s only for a few more hours.”

 

Brawn ex-vented. He wondered to himself if going through this personal smelting pit could grant him a promotion after they get back to home base.

 

Just as Charlie promised, the sky became dark soon after the Watsons and Ron unloaded all their camping gear out of the Land Rover. While there were many lit fires around them it was pitch black enough for Brawn’s root form to remain hidden in the shadows beneath the trees. Brawn sat a few yards from the fire while Charlie and her clan enjoyed small golden colored squared food that squished together a dark brown block and a spongy white cylinder. The unusual combination was called a _s’more_. Brawn asked the humans why the confectionary was given such an dippy name but they admitted they were not so sure themselves.

 

“I was in Boy Scouts back when I was Otis’ age and my troop members and I would compete over who would cook their marshmallows the longest without burning it,” Ron reminisced.

 

“Not gonna lie Ron, but that doesn’t sound very exciting,” Charlie confessed while she stabbed a marshmallow with a stick and held it over the fire.

 

“Maybe, if I made the fire interesting,” Brawn grinned before he brandished a small item from his Subspace.

* * *

 

Five campfires away, a man threw his uneaten dinner into a trash bag. He accidently dropped half of the meaty barbeque when a large sound shook him. The man turned around and for half a second saw a large column of fire that quickly vanished.

* * *

  

The three people at campsite 51 coughed out the smoke and waved their hands to disperse the remaining ash. Once the fire died down Ron rushed over to the other side of the pit to see the nearby provisions.

 

“Is the food okay?” Otis asked with worry.

 

“It’s fine,” Ron said with relief in his voice. “We should probably call it a night before Brawn starts a forest fire.”

 

Otis and Charlie quickly agreed. Charlie then looked at the remainder of her stick and saw that there was no trace of her marshmallow left either. She frowned and glowered at Brawn.

 

The Land Rover’s faceplate scrunched up and rubbed his neck cables. “Okay, so maybe I overdid it with the mini-firebomb.”

 

“You think?” Charlie stated incredulously. “Okay, Brawn I get that you’re trying to help but lay off the bombs until we’re back at the Milky Way base. Or just never use them around my family and me in general unless there’s a bad guy around.”

 

“I won’t use anymore bombs on this trip.” Brawn swore.

 

“Good,” Charlie nodded. “I’m not trying to be mean or anything but we can’t get in trouble while we’re here and definitely don’t want you to get spotted.”

 

Brawn sat there contemplating over what the human said until he noticed what Ron was doing. “Say, why is he putting your nutrients in that safe?”

 

Charlie glanced over to look where Brawn pointed. “Oh, that’s just the bearproof food locker.”

 

Brawn raised an optical ridge, “A what?”

 

“It’s a metal box that protects our food from bears when we don’t want to eat anything for a while. We can’t just leave the meat, bread or other snacks around because bears have a strong sense of smell and are attracted to it.” “What if a bear comes around anyway?”

 

“Just like Ron said earlier, if it’s a black furred bear we have to try and defend ourselves until real help comes by,” Charlie said as she threw her stick in the fire. She went over to the tent she, Otis and Ron set up earlier and pulled out a folded up tarp. “But that’s very unlikely since black bear attacks are uncommon here. Brown bears appear here more often and we just need to play dead and it should make them uninterested and leave.”

 

“Play dead?” Brawn inquired as he watched Charlie unfurl the plastic cloth.

 

“Staying still by pretending you aren’t alive,” Charlie furthered explained.

 

“Doesn’t sound very brave to me,” Brawn noted. “I’d rather just take the challenge helm-on.”

 

“Yeah, well humans are smaller than bears so we try to handle them in a way that’s least likely to get us injured,” Charlie said clearly. Once the tarp was completely unrolled she gestured to Brawn. “You can go into your vehicle mode now.”

 

After Brawn did so he asked why. Charlie answered, “The nights out here are cold, so this should help keep you warm.” She then pulled the tarp and covered Brawn with it.

 

“I ain’t some youngling,” his tone laced with some embarrassment.

 

“I can take care of myself, you know.” “It’ll also keep animals from pooping on you,” Charlie added.

 

“I will recharge with this covering every night in that case,” Brawn said with newfound enthusiasm.

 

Charlie smirked before she announced, “I’m gonna go brush my teeth before turning in.” “Turning into what?” Brawn asked excitedly. “Does your race have secondary forms too?”

 

“Turning in is another way of saying going to sleep,” she with amusement.

 

“This Earth stuff is hard,” Brawn ex-vented aloud.

 

By 0120 Earth hours all the humans within a four kilometer radius were recharge-sleeping. It was called sleeping. Brawn had to at least learn Earth terms since he pretty much slagged everything else. He had no idea how Bumblebee did it. Somehow that little mech was able to befriend humans left and right without even needing to speak. Brawn thought if he played some music for the Watsons and Ron, that he would be in their good graces. Obviously that did not go so well. Even when he tried to make the fire less boring that only made things worse. Yet, the human known as Charlie still showed compassion to him after all the times he kept screwing up. He thought only Optimus had the patience of a Prime. It turned out the mechanic did as well. Brawn knew he had to do something to make things right. He hated owing others favors after they did something nice. Brawn then decided that if he could not use his demolition skills to improve the camping experience for the humans he would have to settle with his namesake. 

* * *

 

Location: Yosemite [Tower Peak], CA. Date: June 18, 1988

 

Two miles down from the timberline, two dark brown bears wrestled aggressively over a pile of trout. One of them pushed the other back before it stared above the treetops. A large glowing meteorite was quickly approaching the ground where they stood. The bear let out a roar of alarm that awoke all the other animals in the vicinity. Deer, squirrels and birds spirited away from the area. The two bears were the last to flee. 

 

If a shooting star crashes into a forest and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound?

* * *

 

Sunday, Father’s Day, morning arrived gradually and in a surprising change of pace, Charlie was the first to wake up. There was just something about being in nature that made her feel more amped to start the day. Charlie wormed her way out of her sleeping bag and put on her pants and shoes before slowly unzipping the opening of the tent and headed outside. She nearly shouted at what she discovered in the campground.

 

A triangular pile of nine logs long as three feet stood an inch next to the dead fire pit.

 

Behind Charlie, she heard the yawns of Ron and Otis as they dragged themselves out of the tent and stopped mid-greeting when they saw the logs.

 

“Where did these,” Ron trailed off.

 

“Brawn?” Charlie was already walking over to where the Land Rover was parked. As she headed over the mechanic noticed tire treads all over the dirt. She arrived at the car and pulled on the tarp until it completely fell to the ground.

 

“Brawn,” she repeated. “Do you have something you need to explain to us?”

 

“Surprise,” Brawn responded innocently.

 

“Why did you get us these logs?”

 

“I saw how Ron would put smaller ones in the fire to keep it lit. I then noticed you don’t have many left, so while every human was asleep last night I chopped a couple of trees down and got you some new logs.”

 

Charlie was momentarily at a loss of words before she re-gathered her thoughts. “Okay, that’s…. a bit much. These logs a bit more than we need. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate the thought but-”

 

“You cut down a bunch of trees?” Otis gaped in amazement. He touched his hands over the logs that were almost his whole height. If Brawn was in his robot form, Charlie suspected he would have appeared smug. “All I used was a standard issued Energon axe. Nothing special. Just, uh, don’t tell Prime that I barrowed it from him. Again.”

 

Charlie suddenly wanted to go back to sleep and ignore her brother geeking over Brawn. Ron decided to clear his throat to get everyone’s attention. “Hey, so why don’t we have some breakfast before we go on that drive to Tenaya Lake?”

* * *

 

Location: Yosemite [Wawona], CA. Date: June 18, 1988

 

Ranger Jeff was literally in the neighborhood when he was radioed about a wild animal sighting near Hodgdon.

 

The Hodgdon Homestead Cabin was built in the 1800s by Jeremiah Hodgdon in Aspen Valley before it was relocated to Wawona at its Pioneer History Center ten years ago that month. It was the only two-story cabin in the entire park, so if any large animals were nearby doing God knows what, the park workers needed to investigate.

 

It was early enough that there was no one else around the area when Jeff arrived. He had drove through a trail near the history center that only park employees were allowed to travel in. Jeff followed the directions the other ranger on the radio gave him and searched by the woods closest to the cabin. Jeff used his binoculars and spotted a large dark body halfway hidden in the grass. He readjusted his gun and made sure the tranquilizer inside was ready. Then he knelt to the ground and slowly approached the creature and soon saw it was a bear. Much to his surprise the bear appeared to be sleeping, with both of its eyes were closed and its pink tongue stuck out. Jeff was perplexed when he found a needle, injected in the bear’s backside. He removed the dart and had trouble identifying the symbol on the side.

 

Poachers normally did not brand their weapons and they never left an animal they caught, especially a healthy looking male brown bear with all of its teeth and claws still intact.

 

Just as Jeff turned away to return to the Jeep a large shadow enveloped the man. He had no time to react after he heard a screeching noise and became unconscious.

 

Jeff opened his eyes and tried futilely to rub away the headache he had developed. He blearily blinked as he pushed himself up and retrieved his ranger hat. He spotted the unconscious bear by his face and jumped back. The bear slept through the noise. Jeff grabbed around for his gun and discovered that was somehow ripped in half. He quickly got up and rushed to the Jeep to call for help. However, when Jeff arrived to his Jeep he found that someone … or something had stolen the dashboard and engine. All was left was the handheld radio that only reached a few miles of distance.

 

Jeff reached for the radio and called out, “Attention, I found the bear. It’s drugged. Someone tranqed it before I arrived, and that’s not even the strangest part.” 

* * *

 

“-no evacuations near the area have been declared as local police assured that no one was hurt by the meteor crash,” a newscaster on the car radio announced. True to his word, Ron drove Charlie and Otis towards Tenaya Lake after breakfast was finished. Of course they collected everything they could not leave at the campsite before they took off. Charlie sat in the front this time while Otis was with Conan in the backseat. She was the one who turned the radio and agreed to Ron’s request to listen to the news first before she looked for music.

 

“Did you see the meteor while getting firewood last night, Brawn?” Charlie asked.

 

“I think it crashed after I went to take my stasis nap,” Brawn admitted. “But I haven’t sensed anything Cybertronian if that’s what you’re worried about.”

 

“Not because of the forest being too dense to scan anything, right?” Charlie said with skepticism.

 

“Uh,” Brawn murmured.

 

“I’m sure it’s nothing,” Ron insisted. “Look this trip is a chance for us to get away from that for a while. Let’s enjoy it while we can.”

 

“Yeah, I don’t want to go back home after we just got here,” Otis added while Conan panted.

 

“I’m not trying to be harsh or anything it’s just that the last time I was in the woods I got kidnapped and I don’t want that to happen again with either of you,” Charlie said defensively.

 

Ron opened his mouth to say something but the Land Rover cut in.

 

“Nothing like that will happen while I’m around,” Brawn boasted. “I’m the strongest Autobot there is. I can take out a dozen ‘cons with both servos tied behind my back.”

 

“You’re pretty modest about your talents,” Charlie joked.

 

“I’ll keep ya safe, don’t worry.”

 

“That’s good to hear,” Ron said quietly.

* * *

 

 It was close to 10 o’clock when they arrived at the lake. They parked far enough that none of the other humans could, or cared, to see them.

 

“Brawn,” Charlie touched the Land Rover’s hood. “We’re far enough that you can transform.”

 

“I thought you said I was supposed to stay in vehicle mode?” Brawn inclined.  

 

“Yeah, until you pulled that stunt last night,” Charlie revealed. “We realized that it would be better if you stayed with us at all times. Leaving you alone is not a good idea.”

 

Brawn chuckled sheepishly before he shifted into his standard form. He follow the Watson siblings and Ron as they hiked into the woods. They walked through a trail wide enough for Brawn to traverse in. Less than ten minutes they stopped at a clearing with a large rock by the water.

 

“Okay,” Charlie looked around. “’think we’re clear, so if anyone comes by, Brawn what do you do?”

 

Brawn’s optics gleamed before he rushed over to the water and jumped near the rock, which hid him from view but caused a large splash in the process. Charlie, Ron and Otis were soaked from the cold wave.

 

“Oops,” Brawn winced.

 

“S’okay, we’re wearing our swimsuits under our shirts,” Ron spluttered out the water.

 

“What are we doing here?” Brawn stared at the water.

 

“We’re swimming,” Otis said as he tugged his shirt off and started to run into the lake.

 

“Don’t forget to put sunscreen on first,” Ron warned. “You don’t wanna get sunburn.”

 

“You better listen to him, Otis,” Charlie added. “If mom sees your skin red, she’ll go on a rant about how you might get cancer.” Sadly for her, she was not joking.

 

“Fine,” Otis bemoaned and accepted the bottle of _Coppertone_ after Charlie was done with it.

 

“What exactly is the point of swimming?” Brawn asked Ron. “Are you planning to do an underwater reconnaissance in the near future?”

 

“No, it’s just for fun,” Ron corrected.

 

“Getting wet is fun?”

 

“The water here is normally too cold to go swimming but thanks to how hot it is out today I’m sure we won’t mind it as much,” Charlie clarified. She and Otis climbed up onto the rock and took turns diving and jumping off respectfully. Each dive Charlie made was graceful and precise. Even if she did not dive competitively anymore, she still had the Touch. ***** Otis’ jumps produced bigger splashes than hers though, which he seemed to enjoy.

 

“C’mon, Ron!” the boy called to his stepfather. “Try and make a bigger wave than me.”

 

Ron grinned and before he scaled up the rock and performed a cannonball. His splash was marginally wider than Otis’. 

* * *

 

Conan barked wildly at the humans while Brawn watched subjectively.

 

 _So he wants big splashes, huh?_ Brawn thought dangerously. He smirked to himself while he stood up.

* * *

 

Charlie laughed while she partook in a harmless splash-fight with the guys when a shadow loomed above them. Brawn landed pedes first into the water several feet away and created a wave over ten feet in size. It was much larger than the last one Ron made.

 

The Watsons and Ron were pushed back into the surf while Conan tried to shake the excess water off his fur.

 

“How was that?” Brawn asked proudly.

 

“Excellent,” Otis blurted out. 

 

Charlie did her best to remove the extra water by twisting her hair and went to grab her towel only to find it soaked.

 

“Yeah, that was, that was good,” Ron complimented.

 

The mechanic noticed that his smile did not reach his eyes.

* * *

 

After they dried off and had lunch the humans and Autobot drove down the road until they reached a secluded spot near Bridalveil Fallin Yosemite Valley.

 

Charlie snapped a photo of the gorgeous waterfall from her Polaroid.

 

“Did you know that sometimes when the flow is light, the water doesn’t reach the bottom,” Ron queried while he read a lot a trivia fact from the park’s official pamphlet.

 

“Native Americans called it the Spirit of Puffing Wind,” Charlie read aloud the second part behind Ron’s back.

 

Otis tried in vain to hop up in order to get a better view. “I can’t see it as good as you guys can.”

  
Ron thought to offer Otis help of some kind but Brawn beat him to it. The Land Rover scooped the boy up and put him on one of his shoulders.

 

“Does that help, little man?”

 

“Yeah, this is cool.”

 

“I bet it looks cooler up close,” Brawn said aloud a second later. He placed Otis back on the ground and glanced at Charlie.

 

“Wait-Brawn!” Too late, Brawn already grabbed Charlie’s camera and zoomed away.

 

All Charlie could do now was stare at Brawn’s retreating form.

 

“Does he know how a camera works?” Otis asked a couple moments later.

 

“If he doesn’t and it comes back in pieces, Brawn owes me a new one.” Charlie threatened while she crossed her arms.

 

Ron coughed to gain attention. “Well, uh, maybe while we’re waiting we could-”

 

“Look!” Otis pointed forward. In front of the humans a large dust cloud rolled down the mountain until it slowed at a gradual pace. When the dust dissipated a soil covered Brawn appeared with the camera safely in his servos, including two pictures.

 

“I took two in case the first one didn’t develop properly,” Brawn revealed just as Charlie looked through the photos. The two were gorgeous views of the valley from mid-summit. One of the pictures was dented slightly but it was still in good condition, just not to frame at home, probably.

 

“Thanks, Brawn.” Charlie said truthfully.

 

“Where did you learn to climb that like?” Otis bounced to get Brawn’s notice.

 

Brawn’s optics gleamed. “Oh, that’s a good story.” He picked Otis up again and happily walked through the woods with the kid on his shoulder plate. “It was back when I was on a mission on Gigantion with this mech named Sideburn. Nice guy, had a thing for red femmes, anyway-”

 

Charlie tuned out the story (which she had heard a few times already) to examine her new photos closely before safely placing them into a _Ziploc_ bag for protection with the other Yosemite photographs. “You think we have a small enough picture frame for these, or should I make some out of _Popsicle_ sticks?” she teased slightly to Ron.

 

“Ron?” she questioned when all she got was silence.

 

“Oh… sorry about that. I’m sure whatever you do is fine.” Ron said softly.

 

Charlie stared at him for a few moments but decided not to pry.

* * *

  

Location: Yosemite, CA. Exact Coordinates: Unknown.

 

“Come on, come on,” a gravely voice spoke. Scattered around the cloistered figure, metallic parts that belonged to a Jeep and an unspecified aircraft littered the earthen floor. One of the being’s clawed hands held a partially damaged En-Rad tracker.

 

 _Searching….Searching… Results: 0.0% Trace of Energon Radiation…_ were the words on the cracked screen.

 

“Slag these primitive apes,” the voice complained. The person slapped the device, which led it to emit a loud beep.

 

_Searching….Searching… Results: 100% Trace of Energon Radiation…_

 

“Yes,” the being roared. Birds native to the planet fled out of the organic trees.

 

_Locating Autobot Fugitive…Destination: 25 klicks south of here…_

“At last,” the voice said as its red eyes gleamed in the darkness. 

* * *

 

After a long day hiking, Charlie, Otis, Ron and Brawn returned to their campsite. Long before sunset Charlie used the time to skim through the photos she made. As she sat on a rock, the mechanic delicately shuffled the photos and wrote the names of locations with dates on the white tab under the images using a black pen. From the park entrance to Matterhorn Peak, Charlie documented so many natural sights, including a few animals. As Charlie looked at each picture, she wondered if they would be enough to satisfy ‘Bee’s curiosity. If not, maybe they would have to go to the park again at another time.

 

 _Knowing ‘Bee, he might just pretend he doesn’t like them so I’d have no choice but to take him back here,_ she laughed to herself.

 

She then felt bad for not thinking of her best friend that much during the trip but she knew that the point of it was to bond with the guys in her family. Another part of her was feeling even more awful for not wanting to go on the trip sooner. She could make up an excuse about how real life got in the way last year but she knew better.

 

 _Speaking of which_ , Charlie thought as she turned her direction to the campfire hidden between her and the trees. She was supposed to be spending time with family. They had less than a day and a half left before they needed to go home.

 

Conan ran over to greet Charlie and she scratched him under his chin. Near them was her stepfather who sat by the campfire.

 

“Ron?” Charlie called out when he did not acknowledge her when she arrived.

 

“Oh, hi Charlie,” Ron greeted.  “I was preparing dinner. I was thinking grilled chicken. How about you?”

 

“Chicken is fine,” Charlie responded. She placed herself in the chair next to Ron’s.

 

“Where are Otis and Brawn?” she asked after noticing that her brother and the Land Rover were missing.

 

“They’re up by Lyell Fork,” Ron thumbed at the river behind him and Charlie. “Brawn’s showing Otis some of his fighting stances. They promised to stay hidden.”

 

Charlie looked through the corner of her eye and noticed Ron’s troubled expression. She realized that she had been seeing that a lot that day. “Hey Ron, can I talk to you about something?”

 

That perked Ron up. “Sure, anything you want. Just as long as it’s not girl stuff. You know, things your mother might be more suited to hear.”

 

“Nothing like that,” she said hastily. “It’s just I’ve noticed that you’ve been acting kinda down lately.”

 

“Oh, I hope I wasn’t being a bother.”

 

“Is it because Otis has been spending a lot of time with Brawn?” Charlie shot straight.

 

Ron winced but pretended the question did not give him grief. “I’m really glad Brawn’s here to protect us and he’s been doing a great job.”

 

“You didn’t answer my question, Ron,” Charlie arched an eyebrow.

 

The man sighed. “Is it wrong to say that I’m sort of jealous of a robot getting a 12-year-old’s attention? If I was his age I would be-scratch that-I _still_ want to hang out with one.”

 

Conan jumped onto Charlie’s lap, demanding pets. The mechanic rolled her eyes at the dog but relented. “And you’re not doing that now because?”

 

“I’d be a third wheel. That’s all I’ve been since we got here,” Ron lamented.

 

Charlie frowned and then stood up, which caused Conan to fall off. She gave him an apologetic pat before she said, “I’ll go talk to Brawn.”

 

“No, Charlie, you don’t have to do that.”

 

“It’s my job to help explain things to the Cybertronians,” Charlie reasoned. “I’m pretty sure I’ll never be off duty for that.”

 

With that said, Charlie headed north towards the forked river. It was a small walk through the trail. She assumed Otis walked down it as well while the giant oval shaped footprints on the right side of the path belonged to Brawn. Speaking of which, she found them by the conflux of the forked rivers. Just as Ron said they two of them were in a spot, secluded enough that no humans were around.

 

“So this is a little bit of Diffusion****** mixed with Discmaster*******, my personal favorite form of martial arts,” Brawn stage whispered to Otis. “So, first I go to my sides where I keep my discs.” He took one circular plate, shaped like a Frisbee, on both servos. “See how I got my servos held up near by chestplate? Now I got the digits straight as rods. Next, this where I’d activate the disks to start the countdown to when they’d explode and-”

 

Charlie had a feeling this was going to last forever and decided then was the time to cut in. She made sure there truly was no one else around before calling out, “Hey Brawn!”

 

“Charlie,” her little brother groaned. “Brawn was getting to the good part.”

 

Brawn ignored Otis’ complaint and answered, “What is it Charlie?”

 

“Ron wants Otis to come back for dinner,” Charlie announced. Technically it was not a lie since Ron _did_ want Otis back and he _was_ cooking the grilled chicken and it would probably be done in a few minutes.

 

Otis sighed but gave in. He did give Charlie an upset look and she retaliated with an eye-roll. Then she sat, cross-legged, next to Brawn and motioned for him to do the same. Once he sat down, Charlie said her piece.

 

“Brawn,” she began to say carefully. “I’m not sure if you’ve noticed it but you’ve been showing up Ron and it’s bumming him out.”

 

Brawn’s optical ridges rose. “Really?” he commented, surprised. “I’m just trying to be helpful.”

 

“Yeah, I get that but you’re overdoing it,” Charlie explained. “All we wanted was for you to just be there for us. You’re being a bit,” she tried to find the right word.

 

“Excessive,” was what she settled on.

 

Brawn did not seem to know how to respond to that and remained silent. His defensive stance became thoughtful. Charlie sighed and tried a more gentle approach, “Do you know why this weekend is so important to Otis and me?”

 

Brawn shook his helm.

  
“It’s because going camping here every Father’s Day weekend was our thing with our dad. My dad and I were always close, but this weekend in particular, helped Otis bond with him a lot more. We stopped going after he died and I just… changed. I made an excuse last year not to go because of my job, when really it was because I still wasn’t over his death and I didn’t want to accept Ron into the family, yet. Going with Ron this year was my chance to really get to know him. We had all of this planned out before I reunited with ‘Bee again.

 

“Spending time with someone, even if they aren’t your father is important, if they’re family. That’s what we wanted this trip to be about. Being there for one another,” Charlie concluded.

 

“And I ruined it,” Brawn realized.

 

“No, Brawn you didn’t-”

 

“Ironhide told me they didn’t need me back at the base. I was so mad when he said that,” Brawn admitted. “I’m supposed to be the strong guy. The mech with the super strength coding, yet all I seem to be doing is be a glorified test petro-rabbit for Wheeljack, or lifting things. I’m great at lifting things-don’t get me wrong I love helping out-but if they don’t need me because of my strength what else can I do? Nothing. At least that’s what everybot thinks.”

 

“They don’t think that,” Charlie assured.

 

“How do you know?” Brawn said apathetically.

 

Charlie chewed on her lower lip for a moment before a thought came to her. “Who did Optimus Prime trust to look after the temp base while I was missing?” she asked factually. “Ratchet and who?”

 

“Me,” Brawn said, albeit reluctantly.

 

“Why do you think Wheeljack asks you to be his test subject?”

 

“To humiliate me?”

 

“He knows you can handle it,” Charlie stressed. “You’re the toughest Autobot, you said so yourself. No matter how many times you get shot at, blasted, blown up, stunned, or set on fire, you. Get. Back. Up.”

 

“Heh,” Brawn chuckled lightly. “Yeah, I gess I do always get back up again.”

 

“You just might be one of the greatest Autobots who ever lived,” Charlie offered as a way to boost the guy’s ego.   

 

“Wow, up there with Thunderclash,” Brawn muttered.

 

“Well, besides Optimus Prime and Bumblebee of course,” Charlie added with a wink.

 

Brawn snickered. “Of course.”

 

“So,” Charlie smiled hopefully. “Do you think you can lay off the showboating for a while?”

 

“Yeah,” Brawn agreed. “So, are we good?”

 

Charlie nodded, “We’re good.” She then offered a hand to Brawn. He held out a digit and they shook it. They both got up and headed towards the campground.

 

“I wish there was a way I could make it up to Ron,” Brawn said.

 

“Like I said, stop showing off so that Otis won’t be distracted,” Charlie reminded.

 

“What if there was a way I could get Otis to like Ron again,” Brawn contemplated with a servo under his chin.

 

“I’m pretty sure that-”

 

“Ooh,” Brawn thumped a pede with excitement. “What if we pretended to do a bear attack and make Ron look like the hero?”

 

Charlie blankly stared at the ‘bot for five seconds before rapidly shaking her head. “I’ve seen that kind of plotline done in a dozen shows and movies,” she rejected. “It never works because either the person the pretenders are trying to help either finds out the ruse, or the twist is that the stunt turns out to be-”

 

“AAAAHH!” The sound of Ron’s scream echoed through the trees.

 

“Real,” Charlie finished right before she and Brawn hurried back to the forest. Brawn turned back into a car when they heard other people shouting. Just in time, because a dozen people rushed out of the trees. Charlie took refuge in Brawn so she would not be knocked over.

 

“What the Rusted Pit is going on!?” Brawn exclaimed.  

 

“Whatever it is I hope it’s nowhere near Otis and Ron,” Charlie prayed. Brawn drove around the trees and arrived at the nearly abandoned campground. The only people that seemed to be left were Otis and Ron. The reason they had not run away yet was because they were being cornered by a large brown bear.

 

“You have got to be kidding me,” Charlie groaned.

 

“Kid, I need ya to get out now,” Brawn demanded.

 

Charlie followed Brawn’s command and he transformed and sprinted forward. He shouted once to distract the bear’s attention from the humans, and thrust his fist against the bear’s jaw.

 

“Guys,” Charlie rushed to Otis and Ron. “Are you okay?”

 

“Yeah,” Otis breathed.

 

“Uh-huh,” Ron all but squeaked. “The bear just appeared and stalked right towards us for no reason.”

 

“Was there any food nearby?” Charlie scanned the area for any traces of meat or fish left by a neglectful camper.

 

“I don’t think anyone here did,” Ron recalled but Charlie’s attention was back on Brawn.

 

“Brawn!” Charlie called. “Did you just punch the bear in the face?”

 

“Cool,” Otis cheered.

 

“No,” Charlie scolded. “Otis, not cool. Those types of bears are endangered.”

 

“Well, that one isn’t dangerous anymore thanks to me,” Brawn bragged as he thumbed at the unmoving mass of fur.

 

Charlie slapped a hand over her face. “You didn’t have to kill it. And endangered means-”

 

“Uh, kids,” Ron, said as he shakily pointed at the bear. All eyes and optics landed on the body and were shocked to see it move. Not only was it moving again, but also the fur color faded until it became pure white.

 

“Gah, slag this scanner,” the now white bear complained as he slapped a paw against his chest.

 

“Is he an Eukarian?” Charlie whispered in dismay towards Brawn.

 

Brawn nodded, “Yep, another Eukarian.” He ex-vented before he picked himself up. “Hey there,” he greeted the white bear casually. “My designation is Brawn. And yours is?”

 

The bear ceased his actions and looked straight at Brawn. “I am Polar Claw, Former Sergeant of the Fur Walker Tribe’s Armed Forces.”

 

“Okay, so does that mean you’re a friend or foe?” Brawn narrowed his optics on the last word.

 

“That all depends,” Polar Claw stared to say amicably before finishing off in a threatening tone, “if you are willing to come quietly or not… Terminator!”

 

 _He thinks Brawn’s the Triple-Changer Terminator?_ Charlie thought in confusion.

 

“I think you got your ‘bots mixed up,” the Land Rover clutched his servos into fists. “But I won’t help you, anyway. Why don’t _you_ come quietly with _me_ and nobot gets hurt.”

 

“I will reclaim what I’ve lost if it means I must take you back to Cybertron in pieces,” the bear announced.   

 

“Great,” Brawn vented. “Sorry, but I don’t take so easy.”

 

The bear straightened himself until he stood on his hind legs. The front legs somehow dislocated themselves and pushed towards his back. Next, the bulky chest and belly opened at the middle, which allowed two white metallic arms with red hands and black wrist guards to push out. Right after the back legs’ claws twisted up two humanoid black legs with sharp silver claws popped from within. Underneath the arms was a six-pack of abdominals that curled down to allow the white head to sink behind it. A new smaller head took over the place of the old one. The face was orange and covered by a helm similarly shaped to Jazz’s, including small black horns, but with a red Mohawk-styled fin at the center. The optics were red and the teeth white and just as sharp looking as the bear’s fangs.

 

“Huh, like that’s supposed to scare me?” Brawn challenged.

 

“No but this might,” Polar claw produced a Cybertronian styled gun that shot a hot blast onto the abandoned firepit, which caused it to break in half. Otis commented on how cool that looked but was promptly shushed by Charlie.

 

Polar Claw declared, “Prepare to surrender, Autobot.”

 

“Prepare for a colossal helmache,” Brawn responded while he pounded his right servo into his left.

 

Polar Claw scornfully grunted at Brawn and pointed his gun straight at the smaller mech’s helm.

 

“Hey Smokey!” Charlie shouted, which earned her the cyborg bear’s attention for a second. But a second was all she needed; the mechanic held up the bee charm and pointed it towards Polar Claw. She pressed her thumb against the back and a large bolt shot out. Instantly, Charlie fell to the ground while the Eukarian became paralyzed.

_If I survive this, I’ll need to explain Newton’s Third Law to Wheeljack._ Charlie thought. She realized that the Lancia Stratos must not have considered that the recoil would be stronger against a small 5’8 foot human than an 11’6 foot robot.

 

“How long will he be like that?” Ron asked while staring in shock of the immobile bear.

 

 “It took me about a breem for the blast to wear off,” Brawn revealed.

 

“He means less than ten minutes,” Charlie explained to Ron and Otis. She pulled herself up and stared carefully at the fallen enemy. For a second it appeared one of his claws twitched. “Though, it looks like we might have to book it sooner.” 

 

“Then we need to get out of here now.”

 

“But Ron,” Brawn began.

 

“No,” Ron said firmly. Charlie and Otis were stunned. They never heard their stepfather acting so assertive before. “We need to go so the kids won’t get hurt. Their wellbeing is more important than a fight.”

 

Brawn looked like he wanted to protest until he looked at Charlie and her brother. The Land Rover vented, “I hate running from a fight but Optimus would agree to what you said too. Let’s grab our gear and get outta hear. I bet once we’re out of the woods my commlink with base should work again.”

 

“Wait! Brawn, before we go could you…” she gestured to the unattended gun.

 

“Right,” he lifted the gun and broke it in half. Brawn quickly threw it up into the air and the remaining pieces exploded out of harm’s way.

 

Brawn wiped his servos. “I always hate having to break such a beautiful weapon.”

 

“Let’s go already,” Charlie demanded.

 

Swiftly, the Watsons  and Ron grabbed what they needed as fast as humanly possible. They loaded everything they had into Brawn’s vehicle mode and he accelerated out of the campsite.

 

“Where should I go?” Brawn asked Ron.

 

“Anywhere but here!” Ron said, panically.

 

“Just get us away from that robot before he wakes up,” Charlie advised.

 

Brawn made a turn to the left and headed east towards Yosemite Valley.

 

“I was shot by that necklace once and it took a while before I was functioning again. We should be fine now.”

 

Immediately, a large thump came from Brawn’s roof. He swerved momentarily, causing his passengers to shout in alarm.

 

“Sorry,” he apologized. “Something just hit me.”

 

“What is it?” Charlie bravely took a glance through the window and was surprised by a large metallic bat. Its red optics gleamed dangerously at the girl.

 

“He has a drone,” Brawn said dryly. “Great. Of course he does.”

 

“What can we do?” Charlie questioned.

 

“Can’t you shoot it with your necklace again?” Otis pointed out.

 

Charlie groaned. “I can’t. It keeps making this noise whenever I touch it.”

 

“It needs to recharge if it’s doing that sound,” Brawn suggested.

 

Conan barked angrily at the flying trans-metal mammal. The bat screeched in response while bearing its vampiric teeth. Conan quickly cowered away into Otis’ arms.

 

“Ron,” Brawn called out to the human. “See my cassette player? I don’t actually have cassettes stored in there.”

 

Inside Brawn’s dashboard a small circular disk appeared. Charlie recognized it as a smaller version of the disks Brawn showed to Otis earlier.

 

“On the count of three I want you to take it and throw it close to the drone as quickly as ya can.” he directed Ron.

 

“How? With the window?”

 

“You’ll see,” Brawn said cryptically. “Just unbuckle yourself and wait for my signal.”

 

Ron removed his seatbelt off and grabbed the hand-sized disk.

 

“One,” Brawn initiated the countdown.

 

In the center of the disk a red light began to glow.

 

“Two.”

 

The bat banged itself against Brawn’s right side, the glass started to crack. Brawn then opened his roof until he became a convertible.

 

“Three!” Right as Ron tossed the disk at the bat, the red light turned green and it broke apart with a blast. The bat drone screeched in pain before falling to the roadside.

 

“Ron, that was extremely hardcore!” Otis cheered.

 

“Competitive Frisbee, two years in college. Went to the playoffs,” Ron breathed. “Please don’t tell your mother about any of this.”

 

“You Frisbee throwing or this whole trip?” Charlie offered.

 

Ron opened his mouth but then noticed something in the rearview mirror. Polar Claw was in his bear form and charging at the car in a rapid pace. Brawn tried to go a higher speed but Charlie saw he was already moving as far as his alt-mode would allow him, according to the speedometer. He had no choice but to slam his breaks, which forced the car to stop to an alarming halt.

 

“Get out of the car, now!” Brawn ordered Charlie and her family. They asked no questions and jumped out and hurried to the side of the road.

 

“How dare you run with your tail behind your legs like some bearing-less cyberdog!” Polar Claw shouted angrily at the transforming car.

 

“I like to fight, but I must chose wisely when’s the right time to.” Brawn stated sagely.

 

“There was a time I once thought that way, but not anymore!” the bear roared as he shifted into his other form and rushed forward.

 

Brawn braced his pedes to the ground and grabbed both of Polar Claw’s servos with his own. Both tried to push the other back but remained rooted. While straining slightly, Brawn was able to push himself forward, dirt curled behind Polar Claw’s pedes from the pressure.

 

“Now you’re seeing why I’m called the strongest Autobot ever built,” Brawn grinned through his denta.

 

Polar Claw snarled. “Can you handle this too?” His left foreleg folded open as a spring-loaded third clawed paw popped out and slashed Brawn against his faceplate.

 

Brawn cried out and fresh Energon bled from his wound. During the distraction, Polar Claw found the opportunity to tackle Brawn to the ground.

 

“Fine, you asked for it.” Brawn brandished two of his disks and shoved them onto Polar Claw. He kept pressing more over the bear’s body until he was practically covered in them. Brawn said, “Take cover!” and all the round bombs exploded.

 

Charlie, Otis and Ron had hidden behind a large rock and remained in their crouching positions until the smoke and fire went away. They looked up from their hiding place and were dismayed to see Polar Claw still standing. Patches of his fake fur involuntarily changed from brown to white and other parts were burnt, but he was more or less unharmed.

 

“I have a thicker hide than any beast or mech you have ever faced,” Polar Claw gloated.

 

“You know that went a lot differently in my processor,” Brawn ex-vented tiredly while he pressed a servo over his wound.

 

“Mine too,” Charlie said.

 

“Give up, Triple-Changer Terminator,” Polar Claw ordered. “I cannot leave this planet unless I have you with me.”

 

“In what vessel?” Brawn grilled. “You were the one that crash-landed here last night, weren’t you? That meteor the humans got all excited about?”

 

“My craft was ruined after making planetfall. I was able to salvage what I could find on this primitive world.”

 

“That’s rich, coming from a tree-loving, beast-mode-” Brawn could not finish his sentence due to the bear taking a hold of his throat cables.

 

“Just because you are wanted back on Cybertron doesn’t mean your vocalizer needs to be working,” Polar Claw threatened. His third claw aimed itself towards Brawn’s neck.

 

 _C’mon charm, work for me-Work!_ Charlie mentally mandated her bee charm is if it would make a difference. _Bumblebee or Optimus Prime isn’t here to save us. We need help fast._

 

EEE-WOO! EEE-WOO! EEE-WOO! EEE-WOO!

 

 _Not that kind of help_ , Charlie thought desperately.

 

“This is Law Enforcement. Come out with your servos up!”

 

Both mecha and Charlie stared towards the direction the sound came from in confusion.

 

“Jazz?” Charlie said aloud. She scanned around and realized that while it sounded exactly like the recording the crooner used, it was not a recording that time.

 

A car drove through the trees at the approval speed limit. It was a sedan-sized two-windowed fastback with bright yellow headlights connected by a thin glowing line in between. The top half was white while on the sides and lower half was black. The hood and front bumper were also black and shaped into a pyramid. On the doors were glyphs that Charlie was certain to be Cybertronian. On the roof was a red and blue lightbar currently flashing back and forth. The one thing that Charlie looked strange (i.e. the strangest) were that the four tires appeared to be transparent and shimmered like crystal? ********

 

TSCHE-chu-chu-chu-TSCHE!

 

As the Cybertronian police cruiser uttered that familiar sound, its two front wheels turned upwards and two rectangular black arms shot out. Immediately after that the two doors sprung open and the remaining car’s frame stretched itself out before the trunk turned into two legs. Everything below the waistline twisted backwards until the legs were facing the rear. The glass windshield became the shins and knees. Two large pedes formed around the front wheels while tiny heel struts poked out of each end of the soles. The car’s hood molded an opening for a white helm to poke out of it. The two doors protruded from the ‘bot’s backside as the two spread out like wings resting on the sides. The front wheels were then part of the shoulders and hid from view once the arms turned in place.

 

Everything about the robot screamed immaculate from the spotless pedes up to the ruby red crest that resembled Ratchet’s, but had longer and thinner tips. The setting sun shined over his plating. Above his left pede, Charlie saw a small red Autobot symbol and she sighed in relief.

 

The brown and white bear stared at the newcomer in shock. “What the-” he went down after he became enveloped by a wave of light.

 

One of two cannons that suddenly appeared on the mech’s shoulders emitted smoke from use.  

 

“Anti-thermal cannon,” Brawn explained to Charlie and her family.  

 

The black and white mech approached the fallen beastformer.

 

“Sgt. Polar Claw,” the white mech spoke in a Mid-Atlantic accent (Charlie needed to ask ‘Bee later how _that_ worked). “You are under arrest for attempt assault on unarmed civilians.”

 

“He had weapons,” Polar Claw grunted and turned his head towards Brawn.

 

“I was referring to the organic life-forms that you showed aggression towards,” the mech said further. He then removed a pair of stasis cuffs from his Subspace and latched them onto the bear.

 

“They are not Cybertronians though,” Polar Claw reasoned darkly. “You have no jurisdiction over them.”

 

“Perhaps,” the mech’s optics dimmed before shinning once more. “But my logic center processor dictates that you cannot evade justice. All laws must be followed accordingly by all sentient beings regardless of the world they inhabit.” 

 

The mech took a step back to examine his work before he placed his attention on the Land Rover and humans.

 

“Combat Engineer Brawn,” the Law Enforcer addressed stoically. “I find it very favorable to see that you are in functioning condition.”

 

Brawn vented out a laugh. “Yeah, if you call almost getting slagged by an overgrown teddy bear me still bein’ functional then sure, why not?”

 

The other mech hummed noncommittally before he lifted his right arm and a digital screen appeared. “Hmmm, the next step that is needed to be implemented would be examining the perpetrator to ensure he is not carrying a tracer or bug drone of any kind.”

 

 “Even when he’s not a Law Enforcer, Prowl still follows the datapad by the glyph,” Brawn jokingly muttered loud enough for the humans to hear.

 

Charlie titled her head. “Prowl?” She looked carefully at the robot. “That’s your name?”

 

Prowl glanced at the mechanic with indifference. “My personal information is strictly classified on a need-to-know basis,” he responded mildly.

 

“He’s Optimus’ former Number Two until Magnus took the position when Prowl was sent on some mission about two vorns ago.” Brawn answered with a smirk.

 

“That was classified intel, Brawn.” Prowl’s doors fluttered quickly. Charlie wondered if they were tied with his mood. Unlike Dropkick’s ‘doorwings,’ which had remained motionless. “If Optimus Prime heard you now-”

 

“He knows,” Brawn interrupted. “The humans here are allowed to know because Prime said we can tell ‘em.”

 

“Why would he allow civilians, non-Cybertronians no less, to be aware of such delicate information?” The doorwings moved slowly as the taller mech’s brow crinkled in thought.

 

“They’re now our allies and under our protection.”

 

Prowl said nothing but rose an intrigued optical ridge.

 

Brawn ex-vented. “I’ll explain more once we get back to base.”

 

“That reminds me,” Prowl trailed off. He turned around and flickered his headlights towards the trees. Moments later, two more vehicles appeared. One resembled a dark red _Dome Zero_ with yellow flames on the hood and an orange winged spoiler on the rear. The bigger one of the three was a bulky green snowplow with black treads and highlights. Somehow it was able to drive down the hill with no issues aside from destroying every tree in its path.

 

“Role-call,” Prowl commanded the two alien vehicles after they arrived.

 

The green plow tank stuttered slightly, “B-Bulkhead. Private, First Class: Demolitions division. And Ex-Wrecker.”

 

The Dome Zero drove forward about a foot and roared its engine. Nitro fire spat out of three headers that were situated beneath the doors.

 

“Private, First Class. Designation: Hot Rod,” he announced in a brash manner as though his name alone meant he was someone special. Probably.

 

 _What a fitting name_ , Charlie thought humorously.

 

“Bulkhead,” Prowl inclined to the green vehicle. “Stay in your alt-mode. I command that you carry the criminal here while Brawn escorts us to the Autobot base. Is that understood?”

 

Bulkhead’s frame started to sputter at the mention of Brawn’s name. Hot Rod swung a door to silence the big plow tank. “Uh, yes sir, Prowl, sir!”

 

“Brawn, assist me in lifting the Eukarian into Bulkhead’s haul,” Prowl ordered.

 

“So, you’re the dominant species of this planet, huh?” Hot Rod asked Charlie, Otis and Ron.

 

“Ah-huh,” Charlie nodded slowly.

 

“Do you spit some kind of acid slime or-”

 

“Hot Rod,” Prowl called.

 

“Coming, sir.” The Dome Zero zipped back to the former Second-in-Command.

 

“Slime?” Ron appeared mildly disgusted.

 

“Can we pretend that we do just to freak him out?” Otis asked with mischievously.

 

“Otis,” Charlie scolded before adding, “…Maybe once.”

 

“Kids,” it was then Ron’s turn to voice out his disproval. That time it was sincere.

 

“Sorry,” Charlie and Otis mumbled.

 

Once Polar Claw was loaded up, Prowl glanced at the three vehicles and said, “I suggest we roll out and set a course for the base.”

 

“Oh,” Brawn looked back at the Watsons and Ron. “Sir, I was instructed to act as temporary guardian to these humans while they were away from their housing unit. They aren’t supposed to head back until-”

 

“Brawn,” Ron interrupted, his face full of acceptance. “We understand that you’re needed right now. You can take us home now.”

 

“Uh, are you sure? Weren’t you all supposed to go canoodling later?”

 

“That’s _canoe_ ing, Brawn. **Canoe** ing,” Charlie corrected, her face flushed. “Ron’s right, we’re definitely okay with going back to Brighton. We were heading back there after the bear-bot ruined our trip.

 

“Or made it wizard,” Otis added.

 

“The Eukarian is a wizard?” Bulkhead’s frame shifted to the right.

 

Prowl ex-vented. “Brawn take us to the base before I get the urge to flip something, preferably heavy.”

 

Bulkhead hasitly backed up.

 

“You all ready?” Brawn asked the humans. When they voiced their agreements to the yellow and green mech’s question, he reformed into his Land Rover disguise.

 

Hot Rod made a grimacing noise. “I hope not all of our new forms look like that.”

 

“I’ll have you know this is a very kick-aft design,” Brawn said indignantly. “There are lotsa Earth-based vehicles around here that look like mine.”

 

“If you like mud stuck on your bearings,” Hot Rod whispered.

 

“What?!”

 

“Autobots,” Prowl growled, his doorwings flared up. “Ease off your throttles and let us be off. Or do you want to join Polar Claw inside Private Bulkhead’s haul?”

 

Brawn and Hot Rod quieted down after that. Charlie and her family got in the Land Rover who led the three down the road. Five minutes passed when Bulkhead sped up to drive next to the bomb specialist.

 

“Wow, _the_ Brawn. I’m honored ta meet ya’… sir,” Bulkhead added bashfully. “You’re like my biggest hero.”

 

Brawn’s engine purred. “Well, it’s nice to meet a fellow demolitions mech like myself.” Charlie could tell Brawn sounded very pleased.

 

A couple of minutes passed before Bulkhead spoke up again. “So, uh, you’re from Unit Prime, right? Do you know a ‘bot with the designation B-127?”

 

“Yeah, I know ‘im,” Brawn answered. He also teasingly added that Charlie knew ‘B-127’ but got drowned out by the younger Autobots’ cheering.

 

“Oh yeah!” Hot Rod revved, fire shot out of his headers.

 

“Thank Primus,” Bulkhead vented in happiness.  

 

“I knew he’d make it and you doubted me,” Hot Rod said accusingly at Bulkead.

 

“I didn’t doubt you,” Bulkhead insisted. “I just didn’t want to get my hopes up too much in case he… well you know.”

 

“You two know Bumbl-I mean B-127?” Charlie stammered before correcting herself.

 

“Know him? We’re his friends.” The green tank laid bare in a happy tone.

 

“Heh, **best** friends, you mean,” Hot Rod corrected nonchalantly. 

 

 _‘Bee’s friends are here? Things are about to get interesting,_ Charlie thought.

 

And she was 100% right.

 

**End of Chapter 10**

* * *

  

 **Q-A:** Oh, yeah. I didn’t just introduce one new character here, I put in four total. My new headcanon is Bulkhead being a Brawn fanboy while Hot Rod is an Optimus Prime fanboy. No one can convince me otherwise! Also I hope I did/do them justice.

1) Polar Claw from the original Beast Wars toyline, Not from _TF:_ _RID (2015)_ , I swear.

2) Prick-erm-Prowl the Autobot cop and strategist.

3) Bulkhead, who I’m leaning towards his _TFA_ incarnation in this story more as he’s supposed to be a little younger-sounding here (I have nothing against the Bulk from _TFP_ , he’s great too).  

4) Hot Dog-whoops-Rod. Good ol’ Hot Rod. I’m going to have so much fun with him in this story. *smirks evilly*

Did any of you like the story format of this chapter? The whole idea of Charlie interacting and going on a special short adventure with an Autobot that’s not Bumblebee? I was think of making it an ongoing series where Charlie spends time with one of the Autobots and learns something about them and/or forming a bond. They can be like mini-arcs in the storyline.

 

References:

*That classic old joke from the 90s. I placed another one near the end of the chapter if anyone remembers. Guess which movie it’s from in the comments.

 

**Those are two cars Jazz has actually been in other media.

 

***I feel like Brawn hasn’t been around Earthlings all that much so his knowledge on the proper names or spellings of objects and creatures but understands landmarks.

 

**** Jeff is another character from the 80s cartoon. He appeared in the debut episode of the Insecticons. Hopefully he didn’t die in that one either. Just kidding. Maybe.

 

*****I don’t think I need to explain that reference to anyone. ;)

 

****** Non-lethal martial arts that designed to turn an enemy’s anger against them without inflicting any permanent damage. The Autobots prefer using this over other fighting styles. Concept-wise, it’s possibly passed on real-like Aikido.

 

*******Another fighting style that involves the fighter using explosive disks whether in their root or alt-mode. Brawn doesn’t actually know the martial art canonically but please, try to convince me otherwise that he wouldn’t want to learn it.

 

********Inspired by the 2019 War For Cybertron: Siege Prowl figure and a few ques from Bluestreak’s concept art from the War For Cybertron video game.

<https://tfwiki.net/wiki/File:WFC-Siege-Deluxe-Prowl.jpg>

 

Songs Used:

That’s My Job by Conway Twitty

 

Keep on Writin’ and Rockin’


	13. I Let The Music Speak

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Charlie is away camping, Bumblebee and the other Autobots face off with a helicopter… mom.

**Q-A:** Hi! I’m back everyone! Boy, I got this chapter out a lot sooner than the last one. It helped that I smoothed out my writing schedule. So this chapter is basically what Sally and Bumblebee were doing while Charlie, Brawn, Otis and Ron were out camping. It won’t be as super exciting as the last one I’m afraid but it’ll definitely have some great character moments. At least I hope it will. 

 

 ** _Disclaimer:_** I do not own _The Transformers_. It solely belongs to _Hasbro_ and _Paramount_. The songs referenced in this chapter belong to their respected producers/singers.

 

 **Warnings** for this chapter are: 

There is a scene where a character gets sexually harassed.

If that makes anyone uncomfortable I apologize in advance.

It’s nothing too bad just some unwanted handholding,

but again I’m warning everyone just in case you don’t like that.

 

“I let the music speak with no restrains  
I let my feelings take over  
Carry my soul away, into the world  
Where beauty meets the darkness of the day”

 

 - “I Let The Music Speak” by ABBA

* * *

 

Location: Brighton Falls, CA. Date: June 18, 1988

 

The time on ‘Bee’s chronometer read 0500 hours, which meant the sun would rise in forty-one Earth minutes. Already the Watsons, and Ron, were busy loading all the equipment needed for camping into Brawn.

 

::It was so noisy out here:: the Land Rover complained through their shared commlink. ::All those tiny vermin barking and hissing, not to mention the drunken human occasionally passing by. I finally started to recharge and then they::

 

Referring to Charlie and her family, ::made me unlock my doors so they could start packing. I don’t know how you like living here so much ‘Bee. That room they have for you makes Ratch’s storage closet look like a Vosian apartment in comparison::

 

Bumblebee and Brawn were both outside parked in their vehicle modes. The Camaro rested on the driveway while the boxier car was by the curb with his trunk open. If ‘Bee was not such a gentlebot he would have kicked that exposed aft with no remorse, but he and Brawn were friends, so to speak, and he knew that was bad. He needed to speak out his feelings instead.

 

::It’s really not that bad:: ‘Bee said truthfully. ::It’s really _cozy_ in the garage and warm. Not to mention there’s a TV in there and I get to watch a bunch of Earth movies that the Watsons own and whatever Charlie and her brother bring from the rental store::

 

::You still have to share it with their vermin:: Brawn argued.

 

::It’s called a dog, Brawn:: Bumblebee corrected for the tenth time since the Land Rover arrived at the Watson housing unit.

 

::Dawg, turborat. Same difference:: The Land Rover blindly affirmed. ::They both yip, smell and shed all over::

 

::Conan doesn’t actually shed that much:: Bumblebee tried to explain but was cut off.

 

::I just don’t want that thing near me::

 

::That’s not your choice to make:: The black and yellow car spoke adamantly. ::If Charlie and Otis want to take the dog with them on the trip that’s something you need to accept. We both promised Optimus to help the humans out anyway we can to make them feel happy and safe. I’m sorry if that means getting out of your comfort zone but we all have to make a lot of sacrifices. At least you’re going someplace fun and I’m stuck here for the next three days.::

 

Brawn chuckled lightly in disbelief. ::You’ll still be here to check out that crashed Eukarian ship while I’ll be getting sap on my tires again::

 

::Actually I won’t be going on the mission to Mt. Tamalpais since I need to stay with Sally:: ‘Bee reminded the Land Rover.

 

::Oh, mech ain’t that a drag:: Brawn muttered.

 

::Brawn, please promise me you won’t complain aloud to the Watsons and Ron during the trip:: ‘Bee begged.

 

::Since when have I ever done that?::

 

Bumblebee projected his EM field with feelings of _Seriously?/Yes/All-the-damn-time_.

 

::Okay, okay. I get it. I won’t say anything mean if that’s what you’re worried about::

 

::Or complain:: Bumblebee reminded him. ::Just try to have some fun on the trip too. You might find something you’ll like while at Yosemite::

 

::I’m doubtful that I’ll find anything exciting in the woods:: Brawn claimed dryly.

 

“Okay,” Ron called out after he closed Brawn’s rear door. “We got everything in, well, besides us,” he added jokingly, but no else laughed. Instead, Charlie and Otis’ carrier was inspecting their clothes and hair for reasons Bumblebee did not completely understand.

 

“Promise you’ll wear sunscreen while outside,” Sally told Charlie and Otis. “Skin cancer is not a joking matter.”

 

“Yeah, mom.” Otis said while yawning, his body not used to waking up early.

 

“And bug-spray,” Sally said. “I’ve read that they could give you malaria, which is not something you can walk off like nothing.”

 

“Okay,” Charlie said exasperatedly. “We will be fine. This isn’t the first time we’re going camping.”

 

“I know,” Sally admitted, nervously. “Just don’t wander off any paths and-”

 

“Mom,” Otis and Charlie said in unison.

 

“Everything will be okay,” Charlie insisted. “It’s just for two and a half days. We’ll be home Monday night like always.”

 

“I know,” Sally repeated in defeat. “But if there’s a payphone near the campsite try calling the house if something goes wrong.”

 

“That’ll just make you worry more,” Otis pointed out.

 

“I’ll at least have something to genuinely worry if you do,” Sally responded half-jokingly. Then she placed her hands on their heads and ruffled their hair. “Just be careful and listen to Ron.”

 

“And Brawn,” Charlie continued while staring pointedly at her mother.

 

“Right,” Sally said slowly. “Him as well.”

 

“Also try not to be distant with ‘Bee,” Charlie asked. “He’s really trying.”

 

 Sally sighed and nodded her head once.

 

“Now c’mon, one last hug before you’re off.” The three Watsons squeezed each other in a short embrace before Sally said her farewells to Ron. Bumblebee watched Charlie approach him and kneel down so she was near the dashboard.

* * *

 

 

“So,” she began playfully, “you think you can handle my mom for a couple days?”

 

“Depends on what your definition of handling is and if it matches mine,” ‘Bee said seriously.

 

Charlie almost laughed but stopped at the last minute. She needed to be encouraging, not make Bumblebee pessimistic about his current situation.

 

“Hey, not with that attitude.” Charlie warned. “Look, I get it. Mom can be a bit… too much sometimes but she means well in her own overprotective way. Or that’s what I keep trying to convince myself.”

 

“You know, this isn’t really cheering me up for some strange reason,” Bumblebee muttered sarcastically.

 

“You’ll find a way to get along with her.”

 

“I don’t know,” ‘Bee buzzed worriedly. “I don’t think your mom likes me or the other Autobots all that much.”

 

“She just needs to learn to trust you and this weekend might be what you both need to bond.”

 

“How exactly am I supposed to do that? I have more in common with you and Otis than I do with your mother.”

 

Charlie pursed her lips for a moment before an idea came to her mind. She leaned down and whispered her suggestion to ‘Bee.

 

“Really?” ‘Bee’s tone sounded hopeful.

 

Charlie nodded. “Really. But remember to make it a surprise. She’ll love it. Trust me.”

 

“Charlie, it’s time to go,” Ron shouted through Brawn’s driver seat.

 

“Bye ‘Bee,” Charlie patted the Camaro’s hood one last time.

 

“Goodbye Charlie,” he whispered back gently. Charlie gave him a meaningful look and opened her mouth to say something else but then Otis honked on Brawn’s horn.

 

“C’mon,” her bratty brother dragged purposely. Inside the car, Conan barked in tune with the horn. “We don’t wanna hit traffic.”

 

“I’m coming! Jeez.” The eighteen-year-old scowled, “See you soon, all right?” She bid ‘Bee a wave before sprinting off into the Land Rover.

 

“Drive safely,” Sally called out as Ron rolled out of the driveway and onto the road.

 

“What did you say to ‘Bee before you left?” Otis asked as Ron headed out of the city limits.

 

“Oh,” Charlie smiled knowingly. “Just gave him some advice on how he can connect with Mom while we’re away.”

* * *

 

 

“I miss them already,” the nurse said to herself as she walked back into the house, forgetting to ‘drive’ Bumblebee back into the garage.

 

“So do I.” ‘Bee ex-vented, miserably.

 

After a breem passed, and Bumblebee checked to see that there were no other awake humans in the neighborhood. He reverted into his robot form and slid the garage door open and closed it once he parked himself inside.

* * *

 

 

“Shoot,” Sally yelled as she ran around inside the house. The nurse had went back to sleep after the rest of her family left but she had apparently forgotten to reset her alarm clock. Now she was rushing as fast as she could to get to work on time. Sally brushed her hair and tied it into a ponytail and shoved the last bit of her burnt toast into her mouth. She had no extra minutes to make some coffee unfortunately, and would have to settle on the tasteless dredge in the employee’s lounge later in the day. Sally buttoned up her uniform and headed straight for the brown and green Oldsmobile but then noticed its hood up.

 

“What?” _Right the station wagon’s radiator is broken._ Sally remembered.

 

Beep! Beep!  Sally nearly jumped out of her own skin before heading to the garage.

 

“What are you doing?” She reproached the black and yellow car. “If people heard a car honking while I’m outside and no one else is home, they’ll be asking questions.”

 

“Sorry,” Bumblebee apologized. “I was just trying to get your attention.”

 

“Don’t do that again,” Sally ordered. She had no time to be mad at the space robot. What she needed to do was get to work quickly (but safely) as possible.

 

“Where are the car keys?” Sally noticed the lack of a key in the ignition switch.

 

“I don’t have them anymore,” Bumblebee admitted. “Never needed one after I left Charlie since I can just drive and lock my doors on my own.”

 

“Can you turn the car on now please?” Sally asked earnestly.

 

“Seatbelts,” the car chimed.

 

“Right,” Sally sighed before she glanced around in amazement. “You have seatbelts?”

 

Low and behold there were indeed dark straps with gray metallic buckles on the other end of each seat.

 

“I have ever since I reunited with Charlie,” Bumblebee revealed. “And in case you’re wondering, the rest of the Autobots have them too.”

 

Sally was momentarily stunned to hear that but them remembered the time. “I need to get to work now.”

 

“Okay!” Bumblebee rumbled his engine. “Let’s go to Brighton Falls Memorial Hospital!”

 

“Bumblebee~” the nurse yelled as the muscle car zoomed through the neighborhood.

* * *

 

 

Location: Brighton Falls Memorial Hospital Parking Lot, CA. Date: June 18, 1988

 

The hospital was an old two story building painted white with square walls and a flat roof. It had two parking lots, a large one in the front for patients and visitors. While a smaller one in the back was for doctors, nurses and other workers.

  
“Never drive like that while I’m in the car,” Sally reprimanded Bumblebee. “Or better yet, leave the driving to me for now on.”

 

“Sorry,” he buzzed despondently. “But at least you aren’t late and no Earth law enforcement pulled us over.”

 

The two of them were currently moving at a far more reasonable speed through the employee parking lot. Sally drove carefully while she concentrated on finding an open spot to park.

 

“That might’ve been because you were moving faster than a blur and no cops could see us,” Sally was partially exaggerating, but Bumblebee still went far above the speed limit during the drive.

 

“Mech, if Blurr was around here to hear that,” the car murmured before trailing off.

 

“Okay you need to keep quiet now. There’s some people getting out of their cars.” Sally felt her heart rate going up higher than normal as she noticed a few familiar faces.

 

To his credit, Bumblebee silenced himself and allowed Sally to park without drawing any suspicion from her coworkers.

 

 _Okay the robot car isn’t drawing any unwanted attention so far. Hope he keeps it up._ Sally thought worriedly as she headed towards the front door. She was only a few feet away-

 

“Sally,” a self-confident tone that belonged to no one except for…

 

“Dr. Philips,” the woman greeted, her speed-walking coming to an abrupt halt. Sally put up a false cheerful front for a number of reasons.

 

“Sally, I told you, you can me Ray.” Dr. Philips spoke pleasantly. “I think we’ve know each other long enough to be a little more open.”

 

“We’re at work,” Sally put emphasis on. “It would be very inappropriate to address one another casually around patients. Speaking of which, I need to go to the children’s ward now.”

 

“You know,” Philips sidestepped, intentionally so that he was in front of Sally again. “I realized that with summer underway you must need some help with anything. I know I’m a little behind on some paperwork.”

 

“You behind on paperwork?” Sally joked weakly. “I wouldn’t believe it even if you told me.” She glanced at any of the people passing around them, trying to make eye contact with them for some aid, but she had no luck.

 

“If there is anything you need help with I’d be more than happy to assist.” Philips said invitingly.

 

“After your shift of course.” he added, with a light grin. Sally felt her stomach churn and clutched her purse, trying very hard to suppress the urge to whack his stupid smirk off his insincerely handsome face.

 

“Dr. Philips,” Sally wracked her brain to come up with a convincing excuse. “I’m really busy with taking care of my family after my shift is through.”

 

“Aren’t your kids out of town for the weekend? I overheard one of the nurses saying that last week.”

 

 _Shit._ “Yes,” Sally reluctantly admitted before she attempted to drag herself out of the hole she was unintentionally digging herself into. “They’re out of town with my new _husband_ ,” she stressed. “You remember Ron, don’t you? He came with me last year to the Christmas party.”

 

“Oh, yes. A bit of an befuddling man isn’t he?” Philips asked dismissively.

 

 _I’d rather have that sweetheart of man as my husband than a pig like you._ Sally shouted angrily in her mind.

 

“Dr. Philips, I still have a lot of paperwork to file and it’ll take all night.”

 

“Perhaps we can look over our paperwork together.” Sally then felt his fingers gently brushing against the back of her hand.

 

Sally decided that she has had enough and him touching her was the last straw. She was about to open her mouth and scream every profanity she knew when...

 

 _“O Don't ya know. Don't want to see you here no more.”_ Both Philips and Sally turned around and saw that the sound was coming from the black and yellow Camaro.

_“Pack it anD MOVE IT. YOU SPELL, YOU READ O YOU T OUT!”_ Bumblebee’s radio blared as the volume became louder with each word.

 

The song distracted Philips long enough for Sally to get out of his grip and silently sigh in relief before she began to panic once more.

 

“Sorry, it’s my daughter’s car,” she shouted to the onlookers. “She loaned it to me because my other one has to go to the shop.”

 

The nurse smiled helplessly at her coworkers. They all stared at her, expressions mixed with being unimpressed and indifference.

 

“I’ll just,” she pointed awkwardly at Bumblebee’s direction. “Go shut off the radio now. Sorry everyone!”

 

Sally all but ran back to the muscle car and dived into the driver’s seat.  

 

“Bumblebee, what are you doing?” Sally demanded in a whisper.

 

The Autobot Calvary scout turned off the radio at once.

 

 “Don’t do that when there are people around,” she said further.

 

“Well,” Bumblebee’s tone sounded immovable. “I’m not apologizing because that guy was obviously making you uncomfortable and someone had to tell him to back off.”

 

“I’m just a nurse,” Sally told him. “And Dr. Philips is higher than me in the fellowship.” 

 

“And that means he’s allowed to treat you like that?” Bumblebee asked in angered confusion. 

 

“Believe me, I would love to live in a world where women can talk about being harassed at work and other people doing something about it instead ignoring the problem. But we aren’t,” Sally informed the robotic alien.

 

“You could if you tried,” Bumblebee stated. “Cybertron used to be a place where everybot was forced into a caste based on their function. Now the Autobots are fighting so all of us can be free to make our own choices.”  

 

Sally could not help but feel touched by the robot’s sincerity. It felt nice to have someone in her corner, even if they were not going through the same challenge as her.

 

“That’s a nice thought,” Sally did not have it in her heart to shut down the robotic car’s commiseration. He clearly meant well even if she did not agree with his methods that unintentionally drew attention to himself. Hesitantly, Sally patted his dashboard the same way she had seen her daughter do many times before.

 

“Thank you, Bumblebee. I really need to get to work now. Promise me you won’t throw any more crazy stunts like that?”

 

“Cross my Spark and hope to offline,” Bumblebee swore merrily.

 

Sally was unable to hide the amused hum as she got out of the car once more. Thankfully, Philips was nowhere to be found that time.

 

The nurse inhaled and exhaled her concerns away for the time being and headed inside.

* * *

 

 

Sally spent several hours in the children’s ward. While checking on the patients, she stole a few glances watching the kids happily reunite with their parents and a few fathers reading their bedridden children picture books. That was what she loved the most about working at the hospital, making sure the kids stuck there did not feel scared and help them remain positive about their situation. It was unfortunate when a few did not make it and as a mother, Sally’s heart always reached out to the devastated parents. The only thing Sally could do during those times was comfort the families as best as she could and do everything possible to assist the doctors to try and prevent a similar tragedy from recurring again. She also made sure to always remember what she had seen and protect her own kids from getting hurt or sick the same way.

 

Despite the day being the eve of a holiday, there was not that many emergencies at the clinic and Sally finished all her paperwork with the extra time she had on her hands. After she got permission, Sally clocked out (while avoiding Philips stealthily as she could) and exited out of the front and walked through the parking lot to the spot where Bumblebee was located.

 

“Long day?” Bumblebee posited.

 

Sally sighed while rubbing her eyes. “You have no idea.”

 

“At least it was productive, right?” Bumblebee offered.

 

“You could say that,” Sally responded.

 

“So how much paperwork do you need to do tonight?”

 

“Oh,” Sally smiled weakly. “I was kind of lying to Dr. Philips earlier.”

 

“Really?” Bumblebee asked in amusement.

 

“I don’t really have much to do tonight. I just wanted to avoid him as much as possible.”

 

“I can’t say I blame you,” Bumblebee concurred, his tone sympathetic.

 

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to get out of here sooner rather than later.” Sally delicately touched the steering wheel.

 

“You don’t have to tell me twice.” Bumblebee revved his engine enthusiastically.

 

In spite of his obvious excitement, Sally drove carefully out of the parking lot and into the street. She weaved in and around the late afternoon traffic safely as possible while adhering to the speed limit.

 

Sally heard the car sigh happily. “Mech, it’s great to be moving again.”

 

“Listen,” Sally said. “I appreciate that you were willing to do this-you know, allowing me to drive you so I could get to my job on time. I’m sorry I didn’t thank you for that earlier.”

 

“It’s okay. You were in a rush this morning. I get it. I’m glad you were willing to take a chance on me…” he quieted before turning his radio on.  


“Bumblebee?” Sally inquired.

 

_“If you need me, let me know, gonna be around. If you've got no place to go, if you're feeling down. If you're all alone when the pretty birds have flown. Honey I'm still free. Take a chance on me.”_

 

Sally’s jaw dropped in shock before it morphed into a wide-open smile.

 

“ _ABBA_? I love ABBA! It’s literally my favorite band. How did you know?”

 

“Well…”  

* * *

 

 

Location: Watson Driveway, Brighton, CA. Time: 0510 Hours (13.5 Hours ago)

 

“My mom loves listening to ABBA,” Charlie said in a hush. “Play some of their songs on your radio and you and her will get along in no time.”

 

“Really?” ‘Bee’s tone sounded hopeful.

 

Charlie nodded. “Really. But remember to make it a surprise. She’ll love it. Trust me.”

* * *

 

 

Current Location: Downtown Brighton Falls, CA. Time: 4:05 pm

 

“Call it a hunch,” Bumblebee stated innocently.

 

“This is reminding me of when I was younger,” Sally recalled with a laugh. “I used to wear boots that went up to here.” She pointed to her legs, two inches from her knee. “I was a hundred pounds soaking wet, toolin’ around town with my-” *

 

Sally was unable to finish her reminiscing, as Bumblebee had no choice but to cut her off, including the song.

 

“I’m really sorry but can we stop by the base? Jazz just pinged me a message and it sounds urgent.”

 

“Can’t you just drop me off on the way there?” Sally hoped she was not sounding too desperate when she asked that.

 

“Your house is at the other side of town so there won’t be enough time,” Bumblebee opposed. “I’m really sorry but I need to get back to the drive-in now.”

 

The car sounded very distressed and torn, something that made Sally feel pity towards him. It was nearly identical to how she acted earlier that morning.

 

“Alright,” Sally sighed in defeat. “Let’s go.”

 

She turned the car around until they were driving out of the town’s city limits and headed for the unpaved road to Under The Milky Way. When they arrived Sally was gobsmacked to see how different the old abandoned drive-in looked. Granted when she saw it before it was nothing but crumbling buildings and cracked concrete with weeds after decades of neglect. Now she was beginning to understand why Charlie tried to get her to come back and see the place a again. The Autobots had given it a science fiction-styled makeover.

 

“Can you, uh, get out of me now? Please?” Bumblebee’s question brought Sally back to Earth.

 

“Oh, right. Yes.” Sally grabbed her handbag and watched in amazement at the black and yellow car transforming into a robot. She wondered to herself if she would ever get used to seeing that.

 

“So is anyone from Sector 7 here?” Sally glanced around for any signs of human life.

 

“Optimus told me that Agents Burns and Fowler have established a base down in McKinnon so they can be near us without having to be here constantly,” Bumblebee exposited.

 

The nurse felt herself get nervous after hearing that. She was starting to get a little unnerved.

 

“Sally,” Bumblebee kneeled at the woman. “I’m going to go report to Jazz and see what he wants. I’ll ask if there is anybot around that could look after you while I’m absent.”

 

Sally became uneasy with the prospect. “You don’t-”

 

“Oh, Optimus says through the comm he can do it.” Bumblebee’s glowing glass eyes brightened after he placed a hand at the side of his head. Sally had seen them do that before and she assumed that must have been connected to how the robots communicated wirelessly with each other.

 

Sally gaped at him with shock.

 

“Here he comes now.” Bumblebee pointed towards the direction of the incoming thumping vibrations Sally had just started to feel. Optimus Prime appeared before the human and smaller robot.  

 

“Bumblebee,” Optimus Prime’s deep voice boomed. “Jazz is waiting for you by the computer systems.”

 

“Understood, Optimus.” Bumblebee threw a fist in the air before he dashed down the other end of the parking lot.

 

“Sally Watson,” The red and blue robot pierced at her with his blue glass eyes. “While Bumblebee is engaged with his temporarily assignment, I hope to personally give you a tour of the base.”

 

“Oh, that’s really kind of you but I’m not sure…” Sally trailed off when she struggled to find the right justification to say no.

 

“Or perhaps you would be more interested to see our med bay,” Optimus Prime offered instead. “I know Ratchet would appreciate the second opinion from another doctor.”

 

“I’m not a doctor,” Sally corrected.

 

“Still, Charlie spoke that you are very excellent at your job,” the robot intoned evenly. 

 

“She did?” Sally was taken aback.

 

“She said that you were more than capable than half of the actual human physicians at your hospice.”

 

“I’m sure she was just exaggerating that last part.” Sally tried to joke but it came out halfhearted.

 

“I’m still not hearing a no,” the giant red and blue robot’s tone went up to a slightly higher pitch. Was he trying to be funny too?

 

“Well,” Sally considered. “If you don’t think I’ll be in the way.”

 

“Excellent.” Optimus lowered his hand to the ground.

 

“Oh no,” Sally nearly screamed but caught herself in the last minute. “I mean, I can just walk. Walking is fine.”

 

“I see,” the robot blinked. Sally hoped she had not offended him. “Very well.”

 

Slowly the robot led Sally to a domed building with a spray painted electrocardiogram line encircled in red on the wall. TheRed Cross symbol was next to it and looked like it was not added until recently.

 

“What’s the insignia on the left of the Red Cross logo?” Sally pointed to the heart rate lines she had seen many times at work.

 

“That’s our emblem for medical facilities back on Cybertron,” Optimus Prime answered. “We included the one your kind uses so the members of Sector 7 would know where to go if they were inflicted with an injury while they were here.”

 

“That makes sense,” Sally said with approval. “As long as you know the difference between human and robot anatomy, right?”

 

The last part was somewhat of a joke though she did hope it was only just.

 

“You’ll need to speak with our CMO. He is the one with the best understanding of a thorough diagnosis,” the Autobot leader expressed seriously.

 

Sally raised an eyebrow in curiosity. “Your CMO?”

 

“That would be me,” a gruff voice from behind said, which nearly caused Sally to jump. She turned around and found herself staring at the white kneecaps of a fourteen-foot tall robot. He was about two feet shorter than Optimus Prime but still impressively massive in his own right. His white and red metal plates shined brightly under the base’s many lampposts despite having dents and scuffs marring the finish. Sally realized she was gawking at the robot that shape-shifted into an ambulance, the exact same kind that her hospital used ironically enough.

 

“The name’s Ratchet. Though I assume you’ve already been informed by your offspring?” His glowing blue eyes gazed at her with an expression filled with judgment.

 

“Charlie might’ve mentioned you a couple of times,” Sally responded gingerly. She felt dumb for not remembering most of their names or who was which. Some part of her mind wondered briefly if they faced identical problems as well.

 

“She mentioned to me that you specialize in the caretaking and wellbeing of your species while they are still going through their early developmental stages. Am I correct?”

 

“Yes, I’m a pediatric nurse,” Sally answered. She assumed that was what he was asking her. 

 

Ratchet gave her a calculating stare for a long minute before he inclined a curt nod.

 

“A very honorable profession,” he declared, respectfully. “The galaxy needs more people like that.”

 

Sally did not know why but she felt pleased with the compliment. Then Optimus Prime suddenly became still and stared off to a random direction.

 

“A comm.?” Ratchet assumed with a hand on his hip.

 

Optimus Prime nodded a yes. “I must go,” he announced. “Jazz has alerted me of an issue.”

 

“Say no more, Optimus.” Ratchet did a small flourish with his arm. “I’ll keep an optic on our _guest_.”

 

His tone implicated as though Sally were a small child that needed adult supervision. The nurse almost wanted to protest at the insinuation but decided against it. Even if the robots were not over ten feet tall she would still have no authority over them.

 

“Thank you, old friend.” Optimus Prime bowed to both Ratchet and Sally before he exited out of the med bay.

 

“He always says it like he’s asking me to run through a legion of Decepticons infected with Cosmic Rust,” Ratchet made a scoffing noise. “Really, he can be so dramatic sometimes.”

 

A very awkward silence fell between the two. Ratchet tried to keep himself busy by skimming at a metallic pad Sally could not recognize but she noticed that he occasionally glanced at her when he probably thought she was not looking. Sally pretended she did not see him by walking around, studying the unusual tools and equipment that were mystifying to the human.

 

“So, what exactly do you around here?”

 

“Eh, a little this and that,” Ratchet began vaguely before specifying. “I mostly overview the health of all the Autobots here and make sure they maintain a stable frame and have inner workings that function properly.”

 

“Sounds a lot like a mechanic.” Sally commented lightly.

 

“I suppose it does. If my memory file serves me, I believe that your offspring shows aptitude in the same field.”

 

“Yeah,” Sally made a face and continued dismissively, “but she isn’t going to be a mechanic. I’m convincing her that she needs to look for a higher paying job than that.”

 

As soon as she said that Sally heard a huge bang from behind. When she turned around she saw that Ratchet must have slammed a crate of supplies (he was apparently holding until then) down onto a table.

 

“Ms. Watson I cannot pretend that your society and culture are anywhere analogous to my own,” the robotic doctor said intensely. “Which I mean as a accolade, by the way, because I was under the assumption that people in this country were free to make their own choices without being denied their freedom.”

 

Sally stared at the giant for a moment before she became defensive. “I’m not a tyrant who’s enslaving millions of people on some other world, pal. I’m a mother trying to make sure my kids don’t make decisions they’ll regret later in life.”

 

“I would never dare suggest how you ought to raise your youngling. I am merely offering a differing opinion on how you _should_ allow her to make her own choices that don’t need to coincide with your own.”

 

“I’m not asking her to have the same job as me. She was once a great diver and gave that up. She could’ve been an Olympian if she didn’t quit.” Sally countered. “I now just want her to find a niche that she can be successful at while paying well at the same time.”

 

“And by doing so you are purposely ignoring the other talent Charlie already possesses,” Ratchet retaliated swiftly.

 

“Not only have I heard from Bumblebee what a great mechanic Charlie is, but I have seen first-servo how skilled she truly is. She performed a triumphant metal fragment extraction from a bare shoulder with only lubricant and rubber coverings. And before that, she succeeded in reviving Bumblebee from the brink of termination with only electricity as her means of rebooting his systems back online. While both of those instances come off a little unorthodox, you can hardly argue with the results. In fact, if Charlie were somehow born on Cybertron I would bet you anything that she would be considered a prodigy with how skilled she is at such a young age. Perhaps being a mechanic may not seem like a glamorous or highly profitable profession, but it is still an important one on a planet where the majority of the population relies heavily on ground vehicles to become mobile.

 

“Next time you make a choice regarding your offspring’s future, consider looking through their perspective first.” Ratchet concluded with a firm glare at the nurse. He then picked his box once more before he carried it off to the other side of the room, leaving Sally to mull over everything he said.

* * *

 

 

It took less than a breem before Optimus arrived at the outpost by the northeastern corner of the base. Jazz was normally stationed there when not on patrol as it was the highest point in a two-kilometer radius, allowing the Spec Ops to have a clear view of everybot and everything. Of course they would rotate with shifts to allow the Porsche to recharge his literal batteries but he also claimed that tower as his home away from home on Cybertron as he said that the view was lovely. Nobot else argued against him as most of them preferred the barrack-styled slabs they had on the ground.

 

 _Perhaps they also like the fact they don’t have to hear his continuous music playing._ The Freightliner thought with good humor.

 

When Optimus arrived at the tower he pressed a digit against a button by two seemingly sealed doors. The doors opened quickly with a swooshing sound and the Prime entered. He then pressed a triangular shaped button while inside and was then elevated up on a lift. The platform moved up for about a few nano-kliks before arriving to the top.

 

“-once we had this little device installed we should finally know when the next planetfall will happen and possibly predict its trajectory,” Optimus heard Jazz explain to the young scout.

 

“Hopefully this means will no longer be surprised by any other Cybertronians coming here without us knowing. Don’t want any repeats like what we had with Steeljaw and his gang,” Jazz added.

 

“…so how long has it been installed?” Bumblebee asked after a short pause of silence.

 

Jazz pursed his dermas. “’bout half a mega-cycle. Why you ask?”

 

Bumblebee shrugged. “I just wanted to know.”

 

Optimus noticed through his EM filed that the Calvary scout had his withdrawn. The Freightliner narrowed his optics with concern and decided to make his presence known but the Spec Ops beat him to it.

 

“Hiya Prime,” Jazz greeted without turning his helm and instead remained focused on the monitor. “Glad ya got my comm. earlier.”

 

“Optimus?” Bumblebee hastily turned his helm and straightened to attention.

 

“You woulda known he was here sooner if you didn’ have ya EMF closed off,” Jazz stated plainly.

 

Bumblebee’s newly unlocked EM field flooded with embarrassment. “Sorry, sir.”

 

Optimus nodded forgivingly. “It’s always good to focus on ones work, but remember to remain vigilant, Bumblebee.” _Unless of course you seem distracted._

 

“Lil ‘Bee can ya look over the monitor for a klik? I have somethin’ I need to speak with Prime about,” Jazz requested his subordinate.

 

Bumblebee inclined his helm. “Yes Jazz.”

 

Jazz jerked his helm over towards the other end of the tower and led Optimus there.

 

“Some view huh?” ::’Ave you noticed how Bumblebee’s been actin’?::

 

“Indeed, this planet truly has grand natural splendor.” ::The closed EM field was a dead giveaway::

 

“Don’t you just love how the sky changes color right before the Earth’s rotation inta the dark cycle?” ::Since he got here he’s been a little down in the dumps. You don’t think it has something ta do with Charlie’s absence, do ya?::

 

“The humans told me that molecules and small particles in the atmosphere change the direction of light rays during this time of the day. They call the phenomenon, scattering.” ::He was never like this the first time we regrouped here that stellar cycle and a half ago. He had to part ways with Charlie then and did not think he would see her again. This time he should know that the separation for now is temporary::

 

Jazz chuckled. “Humans sure have funny names for things around here.” ::Must be something else then. It can’t be a virus or glitch either. He’d go to Ratchet to get a systems check if he needed one::

 

“Perhaps but that just means they are full of surprises.” ::It must mean something is weighing in his Spark instead of his processor::

 

::Got any ideas how to get him out of his funk then?:: Jazz inquired with care laced in his tone. He may not have been Bumblebee’s surrogate, but that did not stop him from acting like he was. Optimus felt the same way.

 

::I shall deal with the issue myself, if that is fine with you:: Optimus was the Supreme Commander but he always tried not to overstep his boundaries when it came to personal problems.

 

::By all means:: The Porsche gestured to where ‘Bee was still located. ::Care to divulged what you’re planning to do?::

 

::I’ll ask him and listen:: Optimus stated as a matter of fact.

 

::Straight and to the point. I respect that. Though I was thinking you would just do one of your inspirational speeches ta cheer him up::

 

Optimus raised an optical ridge at the last comment Jazz uttered through the commlink before he chuckled. “Go recharge, my friend. I’ll send Ironhide to take over your shift.”

 

“Ya sure? I was sorta hoping I could keep watch. Uh, just to make sure everything’s runnin’ smoothly.”

 

“If you’re hoping to see a certain signature belonging to mech you know very well I will assure our weapons specialist to alert you right after me.” Optimus’ field flowed gently with amusement.

 

Jazz guffawed with faux resentment. “And to think that some mecha still say you have no sense of humor.”

* * *

 

 

Bumblebee watched the radar cycle repetitively while resting a servo under his chin.

 

 _Primus,_ the scout swore to his god in vain. _I almost wish something would happen just to get my processor to input some different data instead of what I’m producing right now._

 

“Bumblebee,” behind him Optimus’ vocalizer and EM field reached out to him.

 

Quickly the Camaro removed the block on his field and produced informal/casual residuals to present a calmer front.

 

“Sir?” Bumblebee made sure his optics were gleaming at a brighter setting than they were prior to the Prime’s return.

 

“Can I help you with anything?”

 

“You can start with divulging why you have been down-spark-ed lately,” Optimus responded bluntly.

 

‘Bee did not hide his wince. “Oh.”

 

Optimus motioned for the younger ‘bot to stand beside him and follow him inside the elevator. Bumblebee was assured that Ironhide would take his and Jazz’s place on sentry duty momentarily.

 

“For the past groon you’ve arrived to the base, Jazz has noted a slower show of productivity from you.” Optimus stared at Bumblebee with concern.

 

“Is there something you wish to tell me?”

 

“Well, something has been ebbing on my thought processing for a while.” Bumblebee stared at the darkening sky wistfully.

 

“Is it related to Charlie being absent and you worry for her wellbeing?”

 

“No,” ‘Bee said, albeit reluctantly. “I know Brawn is there in Yosemite looking after her and her family. He won’t let anything bad happen to them. I’ve just been thinking about why she’s gone in particular.”

 

“It has something to do with an Earth holiday that is supposed to be observed by honoring ones sire,” Optimus abbreviated somewhat on the description Charlie had given before her departure.

 

“Yeah, it made me think what it would be like to have one. Just to have the memories of that too.” Bumblebee confided after a klik. “I was factory built into the secondary frame so I never had the need for surrogates.”

 

It was true. Mecha and femmes that were servo-built or created in factories during the war already had the basic programming and second upgrades needed to function on their own. It meant more soldiers for the war but at the cost of them never having the privilege of being sparklings protoformed from the Well of All Sparks. Or getting the experience of being held and nurtured by a surrogate, as was the norm before the war took so many lives.  

 

“I don’t regret the way I was created,” Bumblebee professed sincerely. “And I’m grateful that I’m here, but sometimes I can’t help but think…”

 

“What it would be like to have a parental unit.” Optimus finished for him in understanding.

 

“Did you have surrogates?” Bumblebee blurted out accidently, then grimaced. He knew why he asked but it was an unspoken rule to never directly ask a solider a question about their personal lives. Especially the Autobots’ Supreme Commander.

 

Optimus, however did not appear offended by ‘Bee’s inquiry but instead looked patient.

 

“Actually, I was servo-picked into a function while I was a few orns old.” Optimus revealed.

 

Bumblebee’s optics widened considerably. “Really?”

 

“Not all sparklings have the luxury to be raised by an older ‘bot. Those left by the wayside were taken straight away from the Well to be assigned into a job based on their alt-mode.”

 

“As per the law made by the Functionist council you mean?” ‘Bee buzzed surly.

 

“Unfortunately yes,” Optimus nodded solemnly. “I was one of the lucky few to be positioned into a career that I actually enjoyed before my optics were finally opened to see how corrupt the planet’s government had become… Forgive me, I went on a tangent unrelated to your current problem.”

 

“It’s okay,” the Camaro raised a servo good-naturedly. “I appreciate you telling me all of this.” He truly felt honored to learn so much about his leader.

 

“If it means anything to you, while I did not officially have a surrogate there was one mech who I came to see as one. It was because he was the one guided me the most during my first profession and shaped me into the mech I am today.”

 

“What was his designation?” Bumblebee could not help but ask eagerly.

 

“If you are alright with telling me that is,” he quickly added.

 

Optimus’ optics narrowed with warmth in them. Whatever his next answer was got cut-off by a commlink alert. Bumblebee stood compliantly while the Prime responded silently.

 

“It would stand to reason that Ratchet wants me to take over the duty watching over our guest,” Optimus ex-vented out a weak chuckle.

 

“Would you rather I take over?” Bumblebee suggested. “I’m supposed to be watching Sally Watson anyway.”

 

“I would rather you go over to Wheeljack’s and help him with taking inventory over our supplies,” Optimus recommended. “He has been worried since this afternoon that he hasn’t been counting correctly and needs a second opinion.”

 

“Why is he worried about that?”

 

“He believes that something is missing from the Eukarian ship extraction we did earlier,” Optimus stated.

 

Bumblebee’s optics widened. “That doesn’t sound good.”

 

“And since you were the one closest to the ship when you rescued Charlie I would assume you were able to take a holopic out of impulse.”

 

“I did while I was sneaking around. I even made sure to disable the engine so they couldn’t try to escape back then,” ‘Bee said with a mischievous tone.

 

“Excellent,” Optimus patted his scout on the hexa-lateral scapula. “Go to Wheeljack then. I will maintain vigilance over Sally Watson.”

 

“Yes sir,” the black and yellow mech saluted with newfound enthusiasm. He shifted into his Camaro form and drove over to Wheeljack’s.

* * *

 

 

Ratchet’s words swarm through Sally’s head as she sat on the ground. With no chairs small enough for her height, she had to settle with the concrete. Sally was doing what she thought was best for her daughter. Right? Charlie needed to go to an inexpensive, but nice, college where she would gain new abilities and utilize them into the workforce.

 

 _Great now I’m sounding like a university promotional video,_ Sally thought dryly.

 

Charlie needed a good job, there was no question about that, but Sally wondered if she truly was going about it the right way. Yes it was true that being a mechanic, especially a woman mechanic, was not the most profitable occupation a person could do, but did working inside a hot, oily garage all day make Charlie happy? She almost always looked frustrated after leaving their garage at the end of the day, but that might have had something to do with the Corvette instead of cars in general. Sally just thought that working on cars was a side thing or a hobby that Charlie enjoyed. She did not think that her daughter would want to take it seriously.

 

Or maybe she just did not want to think Charlie would want to take it seriously. Was Sally really projecting her beliefs onto her child? Parents were supposed to always know what is best for their children so why is she struggling?

 

The large thumps of giant robotic feet ceased Sally’s thinking briefly as she noticed that Optimus Prime had returned.

 

“Ratchet,” the blue and red robot addressed the other one.

 

“Glad you’re here, Optimus.” The white and red alien greeted. “I don’t suppose you are interested in showing our guest here more of the base? I’m a bit busy with some tasks to properly entertain her.”

 

 _Or he just feels too awkward to be around me after that last conversation we had_ , Sally guessed correctly.

 

“I would be fine with showing our guest around for the time being, if that is all right with her.” Optimus Prime then gazed down at the nurse.

 

Sally almost felt like she wanted to say no just to spite the robots but decided that she was growing bored inside the room with nothing to do.

 

“That sounds like a great idea.” She said with a shrug.

 

“Where are we off to next,” she asked after the two of them walked out of the medbay.

 

“We could go to the barracks next to show you how our kind recharges,” Optimus Prime offered before adding, “Or is there something else that strikes your fancy?”

 

Sally glanced to the side while considering the options. Then her eye caught something she realized she did want to explore next.

 

“How about over there?” Sally pointed to the larger-than-life film screen.  

  
The robot nodded but then said, “It is a bit of a walk from here, would you rather I drive you there?”

 

Sally was still marginally apprehensive of the robots and wanted to say no, but the screen was nearly at the other side of the lot. It _would_ take less time to drive there as apposed to simply walking.

 

“I guess it would be fine,” she forced herself to utter.

 

TSCHE-chu-chu-chu-TSCHE!

 

In a series of plates and eighteen-wheeler parts bending, the large robot became a truck. The left door swung open widely, giving Sally plenty of space to enter. After she swallowed down her nerves she climbed up the steps and making sure she would not slip. Once Sally situated herself behind the driver’s seat Optimus Prime moved forward at a reasonable pace and turned only to avoid a collision with a robot.

 

“You sure have a lot of buildings around here,” Sally observed keenly.

 

“We hope that they will fill exponentially once more Autobots land on Earth.”

 

“Right.” Sally nodded slowly. “There are gonna be more of you.”

 

“You sound distressed.” Optimus Prime noted.

 

“Well, it’s just that if there’s more good robots here that means the bad ones will come too?”

 

“I regret to concede with the notion but yes, there is a high chance that Decepticons will come to this planet.”

 

Sally sighed and rubbed her eyes.

 

“The Autobots will do everything in our power to protect every living creature on Earth. No matter the cost,” he pledged in order to reassure her. 

 

Conveniently for Sally they arrived at the movie screen a few seconds later. Sally got herself out easier than getting in and used some steps to reach the stage. She planted her rear end close to the edge, which allowed her legs to dangle down. Sally was momentarily surprised to see Optimus Prime follow her movements. He sat in a similar fashion like her but with his legs touching the ground and his knees sticking up. Also, he made sure to give them several feet of space, but close enough so Sally did not need to crane her head too high in order to see his semi-masked face.

 

“I can see why you wanted to come here,” Optimus Prime said. “You can have an optic or eye level view of everything from here.”

 

“Well, honestly back when I was a kid I’d always wanted to be close to the screen because it was so huge.” Sally divulged. “Though having to raise my head up did give me a real crick in the neck,” she self-deprecated.

 

“Hmm,” the red and blue robot nodded attentively.

 

“See something interesting?” Sally looked where Optimus Prime was possibly staring.

 

“No,” he said, and then added, “Which is better because if I saw anything appear out of the ordinary then I would be worried.”

 

“I know what you mean. It’s like with my kids. If I have no idea what they’re doing or where they are I go into panic mode.”

 

Optimus Prime narrowed his shiny eyes with interest. “I was unaware that humans had programming at all.”

 

“No, that’s just an expression. Sorry.” Sally apologized sheepishly.

 

“Ah… there is still much of your world that eludes me, including your desire to know exactly every move of your children.”

 

“Well I don’t mean every move,” Sally said vehemently. “I just meant when they’re away.”

 

“So when they are in your line of sight you function with stability, but then suffer from worry when they are not,” Optimus Prime pointed out innocently as though he were trying to put the pieces together.

 

“I guess when you put it that way,” Sally unenthusiastically acknowledged.

 

“Sally Watson,” Optimus Prime spoke evenly. “I know how you feel. As a leader I do my best to lead my troops but must allow them to make their own choices.”

 

“Hiya Prime!” the Brooklyn accented robot that Sally remembered was called Wheeljack came gallivanting towards them. In his metal hands he held a jar filled with a green liquid.

 

“What is it, Wheeljack?” Optimus Prime inquired.

 

“So, I was looking through some old data pads and I found one that Percy had incomplete. He was tryin’ to make Synthetic-Energon but never could come up with the right formula.”

 

“Let me guess, you thought you could try to finish it so we could have an unlimited source of fuel, in case the Energon convertors malfunction or get destroyed,” the Autobots’ leader said in a slightly resigned tone.

 

“Eh, yeah. That just about sums it up,” Wheeljack scratched the back of his head.

 

“Wheeljack we both know chemistry is not in your area of expertise,” Optimus Prime reminded the smaller robot.

 

“Yeah I know… which might be the reason that I couldn’t make any synth-Energon.”

 

“What’s that you have instead?” Optimus Prime asked.

 

Wheeljack stared deeply at the jar and pursed his metal slab-like lips. “It’s a Cyber-coin toss to be honest. Either it’s JaAM or,” he trailed off.**

 

“Or?” Both Optimus Prime and Sally parroted.

 

“Or radioactive waste.”

 

Sally’s felt her eyes bulge out of their sockets and she scooted herself back. Very far back. Optimus Prime had noticed her change in posture and peered seriously at the mad scientist.

 

“Wheeljack, listen to me very carefully,” Optimus Prime commanded. “I want you to head over to Ratchet’s and have him examine the substance with you to see if it’s JaAM. He has had experience with the liquid before. And it if it’s not contact Agent Burns or Fowler, they should know other humans that specialize in detaining radioactive materials. Is that understood?”

 

“Yes, sir.” Wheeljack bobbed his head rapidly. He transformed into his car form and drove away quickly.

 

“Move slower, we don’t want any of that liquid to spill out by accident.”

 

“On it!” Wheeljack called back and slowed down his pace.

 

“Okay, you win.” Sally sighed in defeat. “Raising two kids is nothing compared to what you’re doing.”

 

“I am not trying to compete with you on anything Sally Watson,” Optimus Prime disagreed gently.

 

“Fine, but what you’re doing is way harder than what I’m dealing with. How are you not stressed? What if something goes wrong while he’s heading to the medbay?”

 

“Something bad could happen. But you cannot let every possible outcome control your decision making,” Optimus Prime stated. “As a leader I’ve learned to allow others to make their own choices if the situation calls for it.”

 

“But how do you know if they can? What if you feel they still need you?”

 

“You won’t know unless you let them make the choice.” The red and blue robot gave Sally a knowing look. “Then you’ll know.”

 

 “Know what?”

 

“That they’re ready,” Optimus Prime answered. “Yes, mistakes will be made and they will fall, but they will find a way to correct what they’ve done wrong and learn how to improve. That is a part of life after all; allowing those you teach to grow by them-selves and become their own people. It’s a very rewarding experience.” 

 

Sally was not sure if they were still talking about the Autobots or her children. The nurse suddenly recalled how she became so overprotective.

 

Her husband’s death was the wake up call she needed to ensure nothing bad will happen to her family again. As long as everyone in the Watson household was happy, nothing could go wrong. And yet, Charlie had become different after the funeral. She quit the swimming team, her grades dropped significantly, and then she started spending more and more in the garage. Sally thought that giving Charlie space was the right thing to do but that only seemed to make things worse. She tried making Charlie be more inclusive with family activities, such as posing for a new family portrait, but that made her daughter more distant. Sally realized that what really needed to happen was for Charlie to tell someone how much she was still hurting. But instead of talking with her mother she confided with a robotic car.

 

Yeah, she was jealous of a car bonding with her daughter.

 

She did not realize until then how silly she had been acting the last few weeks. Yes, the Autobots were big and carried around weapons but they acted no different than humans. They seemed more human than most humans Sally knew from work, ironically enough. The night she was experiencing helped her understand why her daughter quickly grew attached to the aliens. There was a lot more to them than meets the eye then just turning into cars and fighting in a war.

 

“And I’m curtain Charlie and Otis will still want you around for a few many more years,” the robot cemented Sally’s idea of where the conversation went.

 

She snorted. “They better call me from time to time. Especially on Mother’s Day.”

 

The robot’s eyebrow rose with interest.

 

“That’s another Earth holiday,” Sally clarified.

 

“Ah.”

 

“Optimus,” Bumblebee hollered as he approached the larger Autobot. “Sir, Wheeljack spoke with Ratchet and he thinks the green solution is contaminated.”

 

“I see.” Optimus Prime took a sharp intake of air.

 

“Ratchet wants you to assist Wheeljack with containing the liquid while he, meaning Ratchet, gets Arcee to contact Sector 7.”

 

“I shall get to it then.” Optimus Prime stood up and walked towards the direction of the medbay, before adding, “I’ll send a comm to Ultra Magnus to get the wash-racks ready.”

 

Sally almost opened her mouth to ask why but made the decision against it. She was better off not knowing, probably.

 

“As for you Bumblebee, you may take Sally Watson back to her home in Brighton.” The red and blue robot nodded once to the smaller one and Sally. Then he transposed into his truck mode and sped quickly to Wheeljack’s laboratory.

 

“Well, I guess that’s that then.” Bumblebee had his hands on his hips. He lifted them off and glanced over to Sally. “Are you ready to go?”

 

Sally grasped her bag and gave ‘Bee her undivided attention. “Ready when you are.”

 

The black and yellow robot nodded once and shifted into his Camaro build. Sally slid off the stage and entered the car after ‘Bee opened the door for her. He revved his engine and drove down the lot.

 

“I’m sorry about how long that all took,” Bumblebee expressed regretfully. “You must be really exhausted.”

 

Sally was touched to hear how concerned he felt. “I’m a nurse, it would be a problem if I wasn’t used to odd hours.”

 

“Still,” he tried to say.

 

“I’m fine,” she stressed. “I’m sorry that I interrupted you, and I owe you another apology.”

 

“For what?”

 

“For… how I have acted around you. Ever since you reunited with Charlie, I’ve been hostile around you and the other Autobots. I’m a mom and I’m supposed to worry about my kid’s wellbeing but I was guilty of being overprotective with Charlie.”

 

“It’s not like you didn’t have a reason to.”

 

“After her father died, I tried everything I could think of making sure she and Otis wouldn’t get hurt again. That’s why I wasn’t thrilled when you came back because I was worried about the changes that would come. I was also jealous that Charlie came to you when she was still upset instead of me.”

 

 Bumblebee said softly, “I wasn’t trying to come between you and Charlie. I’m sorry.”

 

“Please, don’t act guilty over that. You’re the reason she got over my first husband’s death. If it weren’t for you being there at that time, I have no idea.” She admitted while pressing her hand against her chin, thinking back to the past.

 

“Charlie became more confident and sure of herself,” Sally said, minutes later. “She was just being so happy again because of you. I kept trying to deny it but after you left ten months ago, I could tell she was feeling down sometimes.”

 

“I missed her a lot too.” ‘Bee sighed wistfully. “I miss her so much right now.”

 

“I’m still against the idea of Charlie being around when you have to fight your enemies, but I’m willing to let her and Otis be with you all when you aren’t in the middle of a battle,” she both joked and then sobered.

 

“I’ll also try coming here a lot more and learn to get to know you better,” she vowed.

 

“I really appreciate that. Thank you.”

 

“And ‘Bee thank you… for the music _the songs I'm singing,_ ” she chanted.

 

Bumblebee quickly got the message and turned his radio on until he found some more Seventies Swedish pop music.

 _  
“Thanks for all the joy they're bringing,”_ Sally laughed as ‘Bee joined her in belting out the lyrics.

 

They continued to sing loudly and off-key all the way home.

* * *

 

 

Location: Watson Residence, Brighton, CA. Date: June 18, 1988

  

While Sally did miss Ron a part of her was enjoying all the free space she had to herself on their bed. She and Bumblebee had arrived several hours ago and went to bed at a reasonable time but the nurse still felt drained after everything that happened. Of course Sally was glad she was able to make amends with ‘Bee, but she knew she had a long way to go. Sally knew that once Charlie returned with Otis and Ron she was going to have a talk with her daughter.

 

But for now, she allowed herself to breathe calmly and dream serenely that night.

* * *

 

 

Location: Autobot Base, CA. Date: June 19, 1988. Time: Two Groons Passed 0001 Hours

 

Ironhide reset his optics for the 8000thtime that night as he split his time either staring at the black forest and the radar that had a whole lotta nothing going on. The former Rescue Bot had no idea how mecha or femmes like Jazz and Arcee could handle the quiet. Just because Ironhide was one of the older members in Unit Prime it did not mean he was not as spry as the younglings on the team like Bumblebee and Cliffjumper. The younger red mech used to make cracks at Ironhide about his creaking frame frequently back on Cybertron. Ironhide has had plenty of time to come up with some snarky comebacks to use on Cliff’. Once the lieutenant finally arrives on Earth that is.

 

 _Come to think of it, he shoulda arrived here a little after ‘Bee did or with us fer that matter_. Ironhide frowned, thinking deeply. It had been over a few stellar cycles, surely the small ‘bot should have arrived long ago-

 

A loud blaring siren distracted the Dodge Caravan from his musings and he scrambled over to the radar. He typed and pressed buttons rapidly to get a pin on the signal and shocked to find that it perfectly matched the same readings for Decepticon dropships.

 

“Well, slag.” Ironhide said eloquently.

 

::Ironhide!:: Optimus shouted through the commlink. ::Are you looking at the radar? We have a Decepticon ship making planetfall::

 

::I do, Optimus. But how do you know that already? I was jus’ ‘bout ta tell ya the same thing::

 

::Agent Dion:: Was his only answer.

 

Ironhide’s anxious mien became grim. Anything Dion sent to him and the Prime was only either really good or very bad.

 

“Double slag.”

* * *

 

 

“SALLY!”

 

“Holy-” the nurse cut herself off after she properly woke up and stared at the window by her bed. Outside Bumblebee crouched down in his robot form.

 

“What are you doing?” She scolded at the alien. “What if someone heard-”

 

“Sally, I just got a call from Ironhide. He said he located a Decepticon ship that just went through the Earth’s atmosphere,” Bumblebee expounded frantically.

 

The nurse was wide-awake. “Where?”

 

“Its trajectory is heading towards Yosemite.”

 

Sally felt her blood run cold.

* * *

 

 

Location: Autobot Base, CA. Time: 0600 Hours

 

“Why is it taking so long for us to get clearance?” Bumblebee questioned heatedly.

 

The Camaro waited impatiently for Agent Fowler to answer while standing around with his fellow Autobots. 

 

“He’s right.” Sally agreed in an identical tone. “My babies and Ron are out there in the wilderness with killer robots and that’s not enough to convince those idiots at Congress to let you go?”

 

Fowler did his best to remain calm and said neutrally, “Ma’am, it’s a bit more complicated than that. Yosemite is a national park and already there are thousands of people in there.”

 

Beside him Burns was talking on a phone line connected to their Jeep and was in a very frustratingly long call with Washington, the results were mixed.

 

“And they can all die if the Autobots aren’t doing the exact thing the government agreed to let them do in the first place,” Sally deflected.

 

“They keep asking why we can’t just send our own men to shoot them down? Or just send the Autobots to do it.” Burns shouted to anyone that was listening.

 

“Even if we did have weapons strong enough to do that many cities nearby the park, along with the humans in it, would be at risk,” Optimus analyzed.

 

“I told the senator on the line that already two times already,” Burns reported while covering the microphone end on the handset.

 

Sally gave Fowler a glowering stare after she heard that statement.

 

“We’re working hard as we can.” Fowler reaffirmed to Sally.

 

“Well work harder, because if you don’t I’ll just drive with Bumblebee up there myself.” Sally threatened with her arms on her hips.

 

“I am more than willing to accept that offer and take down any ‘cons there.” ‘Bee seethed in agreement. “I swear to Primus, if they lay one servo on Charlie I’ll rip them in half and smelt them into the fiery Pit of-”  

 

“Oh scrap.” Jazz’s curse was heard below the watchtower.

 

Both humans and ‘bots voices chattered simultaneously until Ratchet used his ambulance horn to quiet them after Optimus ordered him to. They all waited Jazz to poke his helm out of one window and look at the crowd below. 

 

“Well, I got some good news and bad news!” the Spec Ops projected loudly. “Bad news is, we got another Decepticon ship making planetfall.”

  
  
“What’s the good news?” Fowler demanded.

 

“It’s notta big-aft warship.” Jazz said with relief.

 

“Well, that’s better than nothing?” Sally offered.

 

“I would prefer nothing instead of an alien warship,” Fowler snidely remarked.

 

Jazz turned around and shouted, “I just gotta a new signal. It’s an incoming message!”

 

“The Decepticons found our base?” Wheeljack exclaimed.

 

“Well, there goes the planet.”

 

“You’re not helping, Simmons.” Burns chastised the shorter man standing nearby.

 

“Prime, you might wanna hear this!” Jazz shouted, his tone shifted from staid to delighted?

 

Bumblebee’s optics narrowed in confusion.

 

“Put it on speakers.” The Freightliner instructed. 

 

“Land approach. This is Cervo, requesting vectors for the initial,” a monotonous voice said.***

 

“Prowl?” Bumblebee whispered to himself in disbelief. Nobot he knew sounded like that, except for the Head Strategist with the same designation.

 

“PROWLER’S HERE!” Jazz exclaimed.

 

‘Bee shook his helm. Now he understood the Porsche’s sudden mood swing earlier.

 

“Prowler?” Sally repeated to Bumblebee, looking for an answer.

 

“That’s Jazz’s nickname for Prowl,” the Camaro told the humans. “He was Optimus’ second in command before Ultra Magnus.”  

 

“Jazz, tell Prowl that he has permission to land.” Optimus directed happily. “We will be more than willing to retrieve him."

 

“He says that he’s following the other ship that landed at Yosemite,” Jazz called back. “And it’s too late for him and his crew to change their course.”

 

Burns sighed with a hand over his face. “The boys in Washington won’t be pleased to hear that.”

 

“Since when are they ever pleased about something?” Fowler asked rhetorically.

 

Bumblebee ex-vented slowly and his Spark’s pulse decelerated. Brawn was going to get some backup to protect Charlie and her family after all.

 

**End of Base Sweet Base Arc**

* * *

 

 

 **Q-A:** I just want to make one thing clear that I literally have no idea how spaceship landings work. Same with the jargon used by pilots/astronauts during landings. Both IRL and fictional. But I watched _Airplane!_ once. Does that count?

So, this chapter was all about Sally more or less being Pro-Autobots now. She’s finally gonna start trying, people. I’m so proud of her. And Ratchet. Especially him. ^-^ And ‘Bee was being a sweet boy as always and even if he and Charlie aren’t together I still peppered in some Charbee goodness. ;) I also really loved the scene with him and Optimus because why not? The next chapter will be all about how the Autobots react to Prowl, Hot Rod, and Bulkhead being in the team. There will sparkfelt reunions (I’m looking at you JazzxProwl fans ;) ) but there will be drama and tears. Tears will shed. Or at least I hope they do.

Are we all in agreement that Dr. Philips is the worst? Yeah, I hate him a lot too. Don’t worry; I have something special planned for him. *Smirks evilly* But at least Ratchet is still great. I really love how he stood up for Charlie. I hope that doesn’t seem too out of character. Oh, and Wheeljack’s all worried about some parts being missing. What’s that all about? Do you think someone stole them, or is the Italian sports car more scatterbrained than usual? And just who IS Agent Dion? 0___0

 

References:

 

*That’s an excerpt taken from the Junior novel of Bumblebee. I thought it was funny so I put that in there.

 

**Oh, yes the enigmatic liquid that has evaded even the brightest TF fans for over a decade. In my story I’m interpreting it as an Enjex that doesn’t cause intoxication. Sort of like a soda or other caffeinated drink. Which might explain why Hot Shot likes it so much. XD

 

***Cervo is the French name for Prowl. I’m using it as the name of Prowl’s ship that he ‘barrowed’ from a Decepticon, that he may or may not have flipped into submission in order to get it.

 

Songs Used:

 

Chapter title: I Let The Music Speak by ABBA.

 

Just Go Away by Blondie.

 

Take A Chance On Me & Thank You For The Music by ABBA.

 

~Please give comments, kudos and subscribe. I’ll answer any questions to the best of my abilities. :D And be sure to…

 

Keep on Writin’ and Rockin’

 

 

 

 


	14. Best of Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ‘Bee meets with some old friends and they get to know his new one. Meanwhile Jazz gets reacquainted with Prowl.

**Q-A:** All right! Who’s up for some bromance and actual romance? I know I am. Honestly, I don’t have much to say right now but I have a lot more to talk about the story down at the bottom. I do have one thing to announce. In August from the 3rdto the 13thI am going on a family trip. I won’t be able to use the computer that much and I’ll not have much of an Internet connection there anyway. I’ll get back to writing when I return home but I don’t know when since I’ll be recovering from jetlag. Hopefully not too long. :)

 

 ** _Disclaimer:_** I do not own  _The Transformers._ It solely belongs to  _Hasbro_ and  _Paramount_. The song referenced in this chapter belong to their respected producers/singers.

 

 **Warnings** for this chapter are:

Slight xenophobia, mentions of war, homophobia and death ahead.

 

When you're the best of friends,  
Having so much fun together,  
You're not even aware you're such a funny pair,  
You're the best of friends.

 

\- “Best of Friends” by Richard Johnston

* * *

 

 

Location: Brighton Falls, CA. Date: June 19, 1988

 

Sheriff Lock patrolled near the city limits, intent on apprehending any punks trying to loiter or partake in street racing. He readjusted himself, trying to get used to the slippery leather seats. After the run in with the robotic Volkswagen that destroyed his old green and white police cruiser, Lock was given a brand new black and white _1984 Ford Crown Victoria_. After he returned from his heavily encouraged vacation at his chief’s insistence. Lock had to take a mandatory month off from work after the police chief read Lock’s report of the aforementioned incident with the yellow VW and ordered him to rest and speak with a doctor.

 

Lock knew what he saw though. As much as he did not want to believe it, there was something strange going on in his town and he believed it had something to do with the beetle bug. Unluckily for him, after his run-in with the small robot he never saw it again but lately there have been a lot of sightings of brightly colored cars driving around Brighton. Lock kept trying to tell the others in the police force something was going on but they dismissed his warnings as the ramblings of some loon. Why was no else thinking that a pink Integra looked suspicious or that a Porsche disturbing the peace was not something to investigate? There clearly was a connection.

 

The policeman continued to be pensive as he reached a stop sign and stepped on the break. Just as Lock glanced to his right he noticed bright headlights shining through the distance. They were approaching fast enough that he needed to wait before he had the right of way. The light grew brighter and he noticed that there were a couple more vehicles.

 

Four multihued cars drove through the road. The last three had the most bizarre looking designs Lock had ever seen. A big green snowplow with tank treads.

 

Lock’s jaw dropped and his eyes bulged. He made a wild grab for his radio.

 

“Lucy,” he hyperventilated. “I saw something very unusual.”

 

“What is it now, Lock?” came the tired sounding voice of Lock’s dispatcher.

 

“I just spotted a Land Rover leading a trio of cars that looked like they came out of-of that movie _Tron_! You know, the one with the weird animation and flying coat hanger-shaped ships?”  

 

“…. Lock, did you forget to take your meds this morning?” 

* * *

 

The drive back home was long but Brawn managed to lead the new arrivals without any problems, aside from Prowl’s constant grilling... towards Charlie and her family.

 

“So, this planet is entirely organic?” Prowl asked blandly through a connection in Brawn’s radio. Or at least it sounded flat to the Land Rover. But for Prowl it was the closest the former Law Enforcer ever got to sounding excitably intrigued towards someone else, besides his bonded partner.

 

“Yes,” Ron answered while he suppressed a yawn.

 

“But you choose to not live in organically based erections?”

 

Brawn overheard Otis snicker in the backseat. Charlie promptly hissed at him to grow up.

 

Ron struggled to keep himself from laughing too and cleared his throat instead. “Well, we have chosen to build homes and other buildings with materials for more permanent dwellings in mind. We use concrete, stones, steel, iron and other hardware as the supplies we use in building, well, buildings.”

 

“Fascinating.” Prowl commented in his deadpan tone. “Do you use the same materials for underwater structures?”

 

“Nobody here lives underwater,” Charlie debunked.

 

“No colonies on your moon either?” Prowl nearly sounded shocked.

 

“We just started sending people to the moon for short trips almost thirty years ago and that’s just abut it,” Charlie educated the Head Technician.

 

“No sea _or_ space stations?” Hot Rod exclaimed. “Primus, we’re really in a primitive world. Don’t you at least go out surfing?”

 

“Actually we do,” Charlie answered.

 

“In space? While dodging asteroids?” Hot Rod asked with excitement.* 

 

“No, that would kill us.”

 

“I’m gonna die of boredom here.” the red and orange car whined.

 

“Don’t be like that Roddy,” Bulkhead shouted in the back. “Remember, B’s here. It’s been vorns since we last saw him. I bet he’s got a lot of stories to tell us.”

 

“Mech, I’m so jealous that he got assigned to Unit Prime. THE Unit Prime. He gets to work right under Optimus Prime himself,” Hot Rod trailed off before he stepped on his breaks.

 

His rear bumper almost hit Bulk’s front.

 

“Hey, watch it!” the snowplow berated.

 

“We’re going to meet Optimus Prime!? Why didn’t I realized this sooner?” Hot Rod shouted despairingly.

 

“I’m sure he’s a really nice ‘bot,” Bulkhead tried to soothe his friend.

 

“What if he hates me, Bulk? What if he hates mecha with red plating?” The alien sports car started to ramble. “I can’t live with myself if he doesn’t like my colors. They make me, me. I’ll have no choice but to change them to something tacky like purple and blue. I don’t wanna look like a Decepitcreep, Bulk. Anything but that.”**

 

Brawn was very, _very_ tempted to drop everything out of his insides (human passengers included), transform and throttle that yahoo into next Tuesday. Thankfully Prowl seemed to be just as frustrated with the young mech as the Land Rover.

 

“Hot Rod,” Prowl droned. “80.01% of Optimus Prime’s frame is the color red. If he disliked the color he would not have it on his chassis,” he finished with a growl growing in his tone.

 

“He could be wearing the color ironically, you never know.” Hot Rod said, sounding paranoid.

 

“Rest assured, I am certain that your coloring will be the _least_ irritating aggravation he might have with you.” the former Cybertronian Law Enforcer vehicle ex-vented.

 

“How much longer until we arrive at the base, Demolition Expert Brawn? I have a very lengthy report to exchange with the Supreme Commander.”   

 

Brawn chuckled. “Is that the only reason you wanna get to the base? There is a certain someone who just might be looking forward to your arrival more than Prime and that’s saying a lot.”

 

“If you do not cease the taunting this instant I will make your position as a lab assistant to Wheeljack indefinitely.”

 

“Do you have to suck the fun out of everything?” Brawn huffed.

 

“Sucking fun is not a function that I possess in my logic protocols.”

 

“…Was that a joke?” Brawn asked, dumbfounded.  

* * *

  

Location: Autobot Base, CA.

 

“Somebot’s in a good mood,” Arcee observed with a small smile on her faceplates.

 

“I don’t think I have a memory file on the last time I saw Jazz cleaning so quickly.” Wheeljack said.

 

It was true. The moment right after Prowl’s transmission ended Jazz went straight to work as a one mech army picking up scrap and then polishing the windows. He was even able to rope the rest of Unit Prime to help with cleaning. Ultra Magnus was more than pleased to see everyone following hygienic protocols for once.

 

“You would to if somebot you knew fer a long time was comin’ home,” Ironhide stated before his optics dimmed.

 

“If I ever ‘eard Chromia on the other line.” The Security Lieutenant ex-vented, unable to finish. Wheeljack placed a servo over the red mech’s shoulder in comfort before he was brushed off.

 

“I’m fine, I’m fine.” Ironhide repeated indignantly. “C’mon ya lugnuts. We know how cranky Prowl gets if anything looks outta place. Let’s get this base cleaned up.”

* * *

 

“So, there are no tracks where there’s an option to drive right side or upside down using magnets?” Hot Rod inquired. He was on the same frequency as Prowl, which allowed him to speak directly through Brawn’s radio.

 

Charlie, Otis and Ron let out three collective nos. It had been over ten minutes since they arrived back in Brighton and the Dome Zero was still pestering them about everything Earth related. Charlie knew it was part of her unofficial job to help the Autobots with explaining how her planet worked but Hot Rod was really starting to get on her nerves. 

 

“Really? So there is nothing fun on this planet at all?”

 

Brawn grumbled. “Okay listen kid, this planet ain’t no Cybertron but it’s got some good points.”

 

“Like what?” Hot Rod asked.

 

“Nice roads, plenty of open space to stretch your frame. The new base we’ve got ain’t half bad either. The humans here have been a big help.”

 

“Even if they’re so tiny?” Hot Rod teased. “You really want me to believe that?”

 

Charlie felt her frown deepen at the red and orange Dome Zero’s direction. She was also having trouble comprehending how someone sweet and silly as Bumblebee was friends with a guy like Hot Rod.

  
“Don’t cut the humans so short,” Brawn came to the Watsons’, and Ron’s, defense. “Not every organic on this planet is nice but Charlie here is one of the best.”

 

“Really?” Hot Rod asked skeptically. “So you’re a soldier too?”

 

“No,” Charlie answered.

 

“Ever fought in battle?”

 

“No,” she struggled with responding.

 

 _Does acting as a distraction count?_ The mechanic thought. Her mind swirled with uneasy feelings from the past.

 

“Brawn,” Prowl called out, ending the interrogation, much to Charlie’s relief.

 

“I am under the impression that we are almost to the base?” The black and white Cybertronian car solicited.

 

“Just a few kliks to go. It’s kinda hard driving around this place with three extra cars.” Brawn noted before he paused for a moment. “Come to think of it you should probably get new car forms later. You all will draw a lot of unwanted attention if you don’t pick some Earth based vehicle modes soon.”

 

“I will look into it once I complete my report to Optimus Prime,” Prowl vowed.

 

“Oooh, I keep forgetting we’re gonna see Optimus Prime in person!” Hot Rod shouted.

 

 _Not again_ , Charlie winced.

 

“And B!” Bulkhead added. “Don’t forget him too.”

 

“He’s gonna be happy to see us. I hope he wasn’t too bored being stuck here on this big piece of rock.”

 

“He’s had plenty of fun things to do here,” Charlie snapped before she recoiled at letting her mouth slip.

 

“Huh, is that so? How would you know what B-127 likes?” The Demo Zero scrutinized.

 

“We’re here.” Brawn said, cutting into their conversation. Less then ten yards away laid the gravel road that led to the hidden base. In a few minutes they arrived at the entrance where every Autobot and members of Sector 7 stood. Sally was standing at the front and then ran straight to Brawn once he parked.

 

Charlie, Otis and Ron climbed out seconds later and the later two stretched their stiff joints from the long drive.

 

“Mom.” Charlie managed to call out before she was enveloped in a long embrace.

 

“I was so worried,” Sally whispered after a minute passed.

 

Charlie full heartedly returned the hug.

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

“Don’t say that,” Sally said while unwrapping her arms so she could look at her daughter. “What happened tonight wasn’t your fault.”

 

“I should’ve tried calling I’m,” Charlie apologized but was quieted when her mom put a finger over her lips.

 

“It’s okay,” the nurse stressed. “All that matters is that you’re all fine and no one was hurt. Nobody _did_ get hurt, right?”

 

She examined both Charlie and glanced at Otis and Ron.

 

“Everything’s fine, Sally.” Ron assured his wife. “It was just a very exciting afternoon.”

 

“That’s one way to put it,” Brawn verbally jabbed. When Sector 7 agents removed the last item inside him, he reverted back into his bi-pedal form and twisted his body.

 

“Mech, it’s nice to move again,” Brawn ex-vented while he pulled at his arms.

 

“You know we’re going to need all that carried back home, Brawn.” Charlie pointed out.

 

“Ah, scrap.” Brawn’s frame drooped.

 

“Charlie!” Bumblebee ran right over and scooped the mechanic into his arms. He inspected her thoroughly, making sure she was not hurt in anyway.

 

“I was so worried-I thought the ‘cons got you-I should’ve gone with you-You are never leaving my sight ever again!” he continued shouting his wordy promises and holding her as gently as he could.

 

“I’m okay ‘Bee.” Charlie patted the side of his helm. “I’m fine. You can put me down now.”

 

‘Bee gazed at her with worried optics. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

 

“I’m fine,” she repeated in a firmer tone. “Everything’s okay. Really.”

 

Bumblebee accepted her assertion and carefully placed her back on the ground. He realized that her hair was a little messy and tried rearranging it back to normal.

 

“’Bee, I’m okay.” Charlie laughed as she tried swatting his arm away.

 

“Good.” the scout ex-vented at the human smiling back at him.

 

“Prowler?”

* * *

 

All eyes and optics landed on Jazz. His triangular visor glowed brighter than usual after his sight landed on the newly transformed Prowl. The former Law Enforcer stared straight at the Porsche, his composed stance a contrast to Jazz’s look of admiration.

 

“Prowler?” Jazz said again, his voice softer that time around.

 

“Yes, J-722, it is very good to see you to-” whatever else Prowl was going to say was unfinished by Jazz tackling him.

 

“Too,” Prowl completed while in the arms of a purring Porsche.

 

“Primus, I missed you something fierce, Prowler.” Jazz ex-vented breathlessly into the slightly taller mech’s audial sensor.

 

Prowl slowly enclosed his arms around Jazz’s waist. “Seeing you in functioning order is preferable as well, J-722. Now will you please allow me to stand up?”

 

Jazz chuckled sheepishly. “Sorry ‘bout that. When I see something I like I can’t help but chase after it.”

 

“Indeed, I know from personal experience,” the Praxian retorted with an arched ridge.

 

That made Jazz chuckle.

 

“I should also let you know that I don’t go by that designation anymore,” the Porsche corrected, rubbing the back of his helm in mild embarrassment over his previous behavior.

 

Prowl’s optics reset and Jazz guessed he was concurrently processing the new information. “It is not?”

 

 _He’s so cute._ Jazz nodded with a ‘Mmm-hmm’. “I go by Jazz now. Does it sound alrigh’ to ya? If ya still wanna call meh J-722 I’m fine with that.”

 

“Your new designation is not a hindrance to me. I believe it suits you adequately.” Prowl reassured.

 

Jazz felt his optics sting from the cleaning fluid threatening to leak out. “Primus, I really did miss you.”  

 

Jazz pressing his Mohawk crest against Prowl’s crimson chevron was the only warning he gave the former Chief Law Enforcer of Praxus before he pressed their dermas together.

* * *

 

Charlie felt her jaw dropped right after she watched Jazz passionately kiss Prowl in front of everyone else. While the Autobots either looked bemused or touched by the sight most of the humans exchanged awkward glances and tried not to stare.

 

 _I did not see that coming_ , Charlie thought as her brain finally reorganized itself. “Huh. I had no idea Jazz was gay.”

 

Bumblebee leaned towards Charlie. His optics narrowed with curiosity. “Gay?”

 

“It’s an Earth term for happiness,” Ultra Magnus offered helpfully.

 

“That’s not the only meaning of the word,” Ratchet stated bluntly while crossing his arms.

 

Charlie nodded in agreement. “Yeah, it also means someone who is attracted to the same sex or gender. Another word for it is homosexual.”

 

“Those are probably the nicest ways to describe someone with that preference,” she finished in a bitter tone.

 

“Why would anyone say something bad about that?” Bumblebee tilted his helm.

 

“’Bee, do you remember when I told about how people are terrible around things that they don’t understand?” Charlie asked.

 

When she saw him bob his helm she continued, “If you’re gay there are a lot of humans on Earth who don’t want to understand or accept that and can hate you and say some horrible things.”

 

Bumblebee gasped in shock. “But that doesn’t make any sense. Nobody on Cybertron is bothered if two mecha are together. Or two femmes for that matter.”

 

“Unless they’re not the same alt-mode, you mean kiddo.” Ironhide griped. “Before the war, if say a Seeker was with a Grounder, there would be riots. Right now we’re too busy fighting ta argue over somethin’ like that. Of course I ain’t prejudice over that kinda thing, same with everybot else in the unit, but there are still some on both sides that carry some grievances. But mostly the Decepticons for obvious reasons.”

 

Charlie frowned. “Because they’re racist?”

 

The red van nodded stiffly. “Euyep.”  

 

Ironhide then noticed Bumblebee’s downsparked demeanor. “Don’t look so glum, soldier; times were different before you were activated. Here’s hopin’ we can move pass that after the war. Fer our sake and theirs too.”

 

He jerked his helm towards Jazz and Prowl’s direction. Both of them were still in their embrace but were now quietly talking to one another instead of kissing.

 

“We should probably break them up,” Arcee decided seriously. “We still need to move the prisoner into a cell for Optimus to question him later.”

 

“Where is the Eukarian anyway?” Bumblebee asked Charlie.

 

“Inside the green car.” She pointed at the snowplow. “I think he said his name was Bulkhead.”

 

“C’mon let’s help get our new Eukarian guest out of Bulkhead,” Brawn declared.

 

Bumblebee’s optics widened in surprise. “Wait, did you two just say Bulkhead?”  

* * *

 

Charlie followed ‘Bee as he nearly skipped over to the other two vehicles.

 

“H-406! Bulk’!”***

 

“‘bout time you finally noticed us, you glitch,” Hot Rod said with no malice in his voice. He laughed loudly as his orange and red plating began to shift.

 

The glass roof/windshield and hood bent forward until they turned into the robot’s chest. On the sides that held the wheels and exhaust pipes in place turned upwards to become the arms. While the bright yellow spoiler nestled itself in the middle of the back that appeared like small wings similar to Wheeljack. A head popped out from the opening the hood made when it split.

 

Just like in his car form Hot Rod was red and orange. The few parts of him that were silver were the servos, pipes, faceplate, the diamond shaped indent at the front of the helm and the joints that connected his arms and legs to his body. His chest, wrist guards, thighs and knees were burnt orange. The upper parts of his arms, pelvis and helm were ruby red. Darker shades of red framed the helm’s edge and next to the small protrusion. Two dark red lines pointed above his blue optics similarly shaped like Ratchet’s or Prowl’s crests but were painted on Hot Rod instead. The olfactory sensor tipped upwards that made it look like he was sticking his nose in the air. ( _Like he was not doing that already,_ Charlie thought). The only places where there was yellow occurred on the flames on the chest that surrounded the Autobots’ insignia, the bright headlights beneath it, and the easy to spot spoiler that spread proudly behind the back as though they were wings.

 

“And my new designation now is Rod. Hot Rod.” the Cybertronian speedster claimed while brushing away imaginary dirt. Next to him Bulkhead cleared his intake.

 

“Wow.” Bumblebee nodded approvingly.

 

Hot Rod flashed a lazy grin. “I know. I got these upgrades a deca-cycle ago. And you’ve got what? Twenty more vorns before it happens to you?”

 

Bumblebee arched an optical ridge and playfully threatened, “Hey remember I may be small, but I’m feisty.”

 

“I can run circles around your rusty chassis,” both Hot Rod and Bumblebee finished together before they laughed and clasped servos through a high-five.

 

“Mech, I missed you, B,” Hot Rod breathed.

 

“I missed you guys a lot too.” The Camaro beamed.

 

“Uh, can somebot please extract the prisoner outta me?” Bulkhead moved uncomfortably in his snowplow form.

 

“I can feel him glaring at me,” he added with a shiver in his tone.

 

“It’s alright, kid. We got ya.” Ironhide said to ease Bulkhead’s distress.

 

Ironhide handed Brawn a long piece of cloth. “Be sure ta wrap this over ‘is optics. Can’t have our guest have a look-see at our _secret_ base.”

 

“Right.” The Land Rover nodded. 

 

The red van and Brawn waited for Bulkhead to open his trunk. Brawn partially climbed inside and tied the blindfold around the Eukarian’s helm. Then they dragged Polar Claw out. Even though the white bear-mech was still immobile and blinded he had a very deadly looking scowl that made the laidback ‘bots like Jazz flinch.

 

“Finally,” Bulkhead ex-vented. “I can stretch my pedes and arms. I’ve been stuck in vehicle mode since we landed here half an orbital cycle ago.”

 

Bulkhead’s outer frame moved in a series of shifts that involved his plating to creep around until they became his arms and legs. His helm appeared where his grill used to be and he slowly pushed himself up.

 

Unlike Hot Rod’s lithe form, Bulkhead was large. Very large. While he was nowhere near as tall as Optimus Prime or Magnus, (much taller than Brawn but shorter than Ironhide by a foot) he was wider than both trucks. Bulkhead’s primary colors were green and black with silver metallic highlights. His forearms and pedes were dark grey continuous tracks. The plow had split and made up the front of his wide stomach and sides. His car’s headlights were on his midsection between his car grill. On each servo three claws clenched over a round opening that Charlie wondered what was inside. The only part of Bulkhead that was small was his helm. The ‘skin’ was silver and got covered by a helmet-shaped carapace with a small protrusion similar to Jazz’s at the center. A huge green jaw that reminded Charlie of an Excavator bucket was welded at front of his mouth. The Autobot symbol was in the middle of his chest like Hot Rod’s but right above a black seam line that slanted down like an arrow. Nearly everything about him looked imposing but Charlie saw how his optics were round and soft as Bumblebee’s were when they first met.

 

“There’s so many of them.” Bulkhead stared warily at the Sector 7 agents.

 

“Relax, they’re smaller than us,” Hot Rod gently wrapped his knuckles against Bulkhead’s arm. “Pit, even B is taller than them.”

 

“I don’t wanna step on anyone by accident.” He glanced worriedly around him. Charlie could tell that the giant robot was really gentle under that wide exterior.

 

“That was only one time, mech. Not sure when you’re going to let that go already,” Hot Rod whispered.

 

Bulkhead snorted. “At least I learned to look around before I take a step unlike some other ‘bots.”

 

Behind Hot Rod was a small pool of oil.

  
  
“C’mon, because of my thinner frame I a lot better at keep myself bal-” Hot Rod took several steps backward and naturally slipped on the oil slick. He would have scratched his beautiful paint job if a large blue and white servo had not caught him in time.

 

“Careful, soldier.” Ultra Magnus warned the smaller mech. “It would be unwise to get injured. This unit needs all the able bodied mecha it can get.”

 

Hot Rod narrowed for a second and then gasped. “You’re Optimus Prime! Wow, those holovids weren’t accurate about your frame at all, sir. General Prowl said you had a lot more red on you. You know, you’re a lot younger-er than I’d thought you be too. Not that I didn’t think you were before. You looked great before I saw you in person, but technically I was in the same city as you around the same time. Nyon-back before-hah-hah-and am I rambling? Yeah, I’m rambling. I’m pretty sure my vocalizer is glitch-ing.”

 

Ultra Magnus’ cheeks glowed a blue tint. He reset his vocalizer and turned his helm away in an attempt to conceal his embarrassment.

 

“You have me mistaken for somebot else. I am not our resistance’s leader,” the blue and white Freightliner confessed. “That would be him over there.”

 

He thumbed at the real Optimus Prime who had been standing in the back the whole time behind everyone else. The red and blue truck walked until he was in front of the white bear. Ironhide and Brawn held up Polar Claw with both of their arms tied to his own.

 

“Sgt. Polar Claw.” Optimus Prime greeted coolly. The polar bear-mech was no longer looking around sightlessly after his audials picked up the direction the taller mech spoke.

 

“Well, if it isn’t the criminal of Cybertron,” the Eukarian spat. “They say Megatron wants to personally remove your Spark from you own Energon bleeding chest plate.”

 

 Bumblebee and a few others made the move to step forward to defend their leader. Optimus Prime shook his helm no at them and returned his attention towards Polar Claw.

 

“I hope you and I can speak about your reasons for being on this planet and perhaps negotiate a truce, if possible.”

 

“I would consider myself a coward than surrender to the likes of you.” The white, red and silver mech sneered.

 

“That is your choice to make.” Optimus Prime clasped his servos behind his back plate. “But remember, anything you say can be for or against you during your stay here.”

 

“My stay?” Polar Claw made a scoffing noise. “You’re implying that I’m a guest but we both know I’m your prisoner.”

 

“Well if that’s how you wanna be treated,” Ironhide began to threaten.

 

“Ironhide,” Optimus Prime chided. “Polar Claw will be led to further questioning in the morning. For now take him to recharge slab for the dark cycle. Make sure it’s one of the refurbished chambers,” he added loudly enough so the Eukarian can hear it.

 

“Bribery will not sway my opinion Prime. Until my people see true justice I will continue to disclose any information to the likes of you-” He continued his rant during the rest of his trip to his cell.

 

“They shoulda bounded his mouth too,” Wheeljack muttered.

 

Hot Rod appeared scandalized at his earlier mistake and attempted to recompose himself by introducing himself properly to the Autobots’ leader. Emphasis on attempted.

 

“Wow, _you’re_ Optimus Prime!” Hot Rod’s spoilers fluttered with excitement. “My Hot is Rod designation. No, mean, my designation is Rod Hot. Gah!”

 

The red and orange speedster slapped the side of his helm. “Sorry I meant Hot Rod. Hot Rod! Heh, yeah, that’s my real designation. Sir. But you probably already knew that. Heh.”

 

Optimus Prime kept a calm demeanor and offered his servo to Hot Rod. The speedster eagerly accepted and they shook servos. When they let go Optimus Prime did the same with Bulkhead.

 

“Hot Rod, Bulkhead may I be the first to officially welcome you to Earth.” The Freightliner FL86 greeted the younger ‘bots. “We are pleased to have more mecha here to possibly fill our ranks.”

 

Hot Rod smiled. “We get to join Unit Prime?”

 

Prowl moved away from Jazz and stood next to the Prime. Ultra Magnus sidestepped from the two and positioned himself near the others. Charlie saw that his faceplate appeared unreadable.

 

“On probationary,” Prowl furthered without missing a beat. “You cannot just simply become members after arriving here. For two full orns you two will go through assessments to prove your mettle along with your cooperation skills among the others in the base. Optimus Prime and I will decide then if you are ready to be a part of the unit.”

 

Optimus Prime nodded in agreement with the black and white mech. “First and foremost you will be learning to work alongside our human allies.”

 

Bulkhead raised a servo. “What are humans?”

 

Optimus Prime motioned towards Charlie, her family and then the Sector 7 agents. Bulkhead smiled nervously and waved at them. Charlie returned the gesture.

 

Optimus Prime’s optics glowed warmly. “They’re the race of organics that are the dominant species of this planet. We agree to follow their rules and guidelines and in return they allow us sanctuary here while we protect them from the Decepticons and other off-world forces that may bring harm to this world.”

 

“And we expect you two to do the same,” Prowl added. “I too, will follow the procedures while we are here.”

 

Hot Rod stole an askance stare at the small organics. “Why do we need to protect them? Wouldn’t it be more practical to just leave if there’s already sentient life on this planet?”

 

“All will be explained, young ‘bot.” Optimus Prime promised squarely. “For now we all must recharge for the evening. Wheeljack shall give you both a condensed tour of the base to know your way around.”

 

 “I think it’s time everyone get shut-eye like Optimus said,” Fowler yawned. “I don’t know about all of you but I gonna deader than the Tomb of the Unknown Solider.”

 

“Wish you sleep as quietly too,” Burns said with an eyeroll.

 

“Excuse me?”

 

“Your snoring is so loud I can hear it at the other end of the base.” Burns complained.

 

“I haven’t heard anyone else carp about my sleeping patterns.”

 

“That’s because everybody else here works beneath you.”

 

“That’s it. I’m not sharing my mom’s old barbeque sauce recipe with you anymore,” Fowler declared as he walked towards his Jeep.

 

“Aw, c’mon man. I already told my brother about it. He was excited to try it out for the Fourth.”

 

“That’s your problem. You’ll just have to sleep with it. Oh, wait you can’t sleep, because I snore so loud I can be heard from space.”

 

“That’s not what I said at all-” Burn said while Charlie decided to drone out the rest of their conversation.

* * *

 

“How long do you think they’ve been like this?” Bumblebee asked Charlie as they helped her family pack up Brawn again.

 

“Fowler told me he and Burns did basic training together way back. So I guess that means since forever,” Bumblebee watched her held back at grin while observing Fowler pretending to drive away without Burns. The blond man was aghast by the action but Fowler did eventually let him in the car. After repeating the previous stunt another three times.

 

“Forever can be a long~ time.” Bumblebee drew out.

 

Charlie laughed and ‘Bee’s spark singed with happiness at seeing Charlie slipping back in to her easy-going attitude again. Sally then called out the mechanic to help with the bag that contained the tent and push it back in Brawn’s trunk space. Charlie went to go help her clan, leaving the Camaro alone for a klik.

 

“Hey B.” Hot Rod approached the smaller ‘bot with Bulkhead in tow. “So, Bulk’ and I were thinkin’-”

 

“It was mostly his idea,” the green snowplow interjected sincerely. ‘Bee knew Bulkhead never did like taking credit for things he felt like he did not do.

 

“Okay, fine I was thinking that once Bulk’ and I get settled you can join us for the dark cycle and we can all bunk together like back in our old boot camp cycles. What do ya say?”

 

Bumblebee’s optics widened with interest. “Wow, that sounds like fun but,” he glanced over at Charlie and her family.

 

“I’m gonna have to decline,” he said, apologetically.

 

“What?” Hot Rod shook his helm in disbelief. “Why?”

 

“I’m a guardian to the Watsons. I need to stay with them to make sure nothing bad happens to them.”

 

“Can’t you just take, like, one cycle off?”

 

“No,” Bumblebee said firmly. “They’re my responsibility. The last two times I left Charlie out of my sight she got into trouble.” He ex-vented tiredly. “It wasn’t her fault but I need to be close by for now on so she doesn’t get hurt again.”

 

“It’s okay,” Bulkhead cut in before Hot Rod could speak. “We can hang out another time.”

 

“Are you okay with that H-4…sorry-Hot Rod?”

 

“Yeah, sure I am.” The speedster let out a pfft sound. “Go have fun humoring those organics until tomorrow.”

 

“Hot Rod,” Bumblebee vented out calculatingly. “You know I’m not abandoning you.”

 

“Right, sure, ‘course,” Hot Rod said jokily.

 

“I’m not.” ‘Bee said adamantly. “I’ll always have your back strut. You know that.”

 

“Hey ‘Bee!” Charlie skipped over. She noticed Hot Rod and Bulkhead and gave them a wave before turning her attention back to Bumblebee. “Mom and Ron got everything pack back in Brawn. We can go home now.”

 

“Great,” the Camaro beamed through his round grill. “Is there enough time to watch a movie when we get there?”

 

“Really?” Charlie asked with amusement laced in her voice. “After everything tonight?”

 

“A little normality sounds like a good way to end it on a good note.”

 

Charlie considered ‘Bee’s words before admitting, “Point taken.” She then smirked. “I bet I already know what you want to watch.”

 

Bumblebee’s optics narrowed. “Oh, you do?”

 

“Breakfast Club.” She answered right away.

 

“… You don’t know if I would pick that.”

 

The mechanic could not help but shake her head good-naturedly at the Camaro’s rebuff.

 

“Charlie,” Ron shouted out of Brawn’s driver seat. “It’s time to go. There’s not enough room with Sally inside so you’ll have to take ‘Bee back to the house.”

 

“That’s fine.” She glanced at ‘Bee. “You ready to go?”

 

 ‘Bee bobbed his helm. “Ready.”

 

He morphed into his car mode and opened the driver’s door for Charlie.

 

“So you guys tomorrow,” ‘Bee bid his old friends farewell. “I promise we’ll do a lot of fun stuff together.”

 

With a rumbling vroom ‘Bee sped out of the drive-in and headed down to Brighton easily beating the rest of Charlie’s family to the house.

* * *

 

Location: Autobot Base [Stockades], CA. Date: June 20, 1988

 

Next to the Energon silo, the stockades were the most fortified building within the base. It was a large rectangular building designed to look like had all its corners and edges seemingly filed off. To human it might have appeared as a gray and orange highlighted cylinder with grooves.

 

It was a groon and a breem passed the light cycle’s commencement. Optimus and Ironhide had both been busy with their guest. They grilled Polar Claw for anything he knew be he remained silent. It was not until they revealed Steeljaw and his gang was on Earth that his walls started to crack. It turned out the upright bear-mech was not overly fond of the beastformer that routinely gave other Eukarians a bad name by assassinating others for a living. Polar Claw told them everything he knew but only did so under one condition.

 

Optimus, and a very reluctant Ironhide, agreed to let Polar Claw see the delinquents (the bear’s word, not theirs) before he allowed to be thrown in stasis for his crime of attempted kidnapping. The sympathetic Prime tried to offer a less drastic punishment as he saw goodness in the beastformer but Polar Claw insisted that justice needed to be served.

 

After the two allowed Polar Claw to growl and glower at the frozen prisoners he voluntarily shoved himself into his own stasis pod.

 

When they sensed no other ‘bots around, the two mecha talked freely and decided not to use their commlinks while they had a discussion.

 

“Well, Polar Claw’s story checks out. Just like Dion said it would the other night.” Ironhide glanced back at the Eukarian’s pod. “I still can’t believe he was the one that sent the giant furball here.”

 

“Agent Dion claimed that wasn’t his intention,” Optimus responded resolutely. “He originally wanted Polar Claw to directly attempt to assassinate one of Megatron’s subordinates. Agent Dion knew the Eukarian would fail, but the action would cause a stir between them.”

 

“He could’ve also jus’ sent an insulting message to Shockwave and pretend it was from Screamer. That woulda made them start dukin’ it out in a Sparkbeat.” Ironhide partially joked.

 

“Agent Dion did say that Polar Claw came up with the idea to seek out Bumblebee because he too heard the rumors about the infamous Terminator.”

 

“Polar Claw musta been either crazy or desperate ta follow Dion’s orders if he believed going all this way was such a good idea.

 

Optimus then explained, “He was offered 15,000 shanix to do the mission.”

 

Ironhide whistled while turning his helm away. “That’s a lot a’ shanix.” He glanced at his old friend and noticed his change in demeanor. “A Cyber-coin fer yer thoughts?”

 

“Megatron would ignore the first instance of Eukarians leaving Cybertron but Polar Claw’s departure has me worried. He told us that he had stolen a ship to come here while Steeljaw’s was given to him by Starscream.”

 

“And you think the ol’ mighty Lord of the ‘cons will notice a beastmode leavin’ Cybertron this time because he stole tech that didn’ belong to him.” Ironhide said as a statement and not a question. 

 

“I,” Optimus’ voice faltered momentarily. “I am worried of that notion.”

 

Ironhide gave the Prime a crooked smile. “Here’s hoping our little informer gets a chance to warn us ahead a’ time incase those Decepticreeps do rear their ugly helms at us.”

 

“Indeed.” Optimus nodded solemnly.

 

“We’ll tell the humans ta get ready if that happens.” Ironhide assured his old friend. “That’s why we’re still here after all. Make sure we keep ‘em safe.”  

 

The two of them parted ways and returned to the base’s center, believing that nobot else heard them. Unknown to both of them a certain red and white mech hid behind a corner with his EMF completely veiled from their sensory.

 

 _Who the Rusted Pit is Dion?_ Ratchet thought as he lowered his audial’s hearing frequency to their default setting.

* * *

 

Bulkhead let out a pleased groan after pulling himself off of his new berth. It was far more comfortable than the one he had on the ‘con ship Prowl stole three deca-cycles ago. The green mech then wondered if the reason ‘cons were so mean had to do with their unpleasant sleeping arrangements. Bulkhead thought that sounded funny and wanted to share the joke with Roddy but he decided against it. Hot Rod did not look like he recharged well at all during the dark cycle.

 

“Hey, uh Rod.” Bulk’ greeted his friend warily. Everything about Hot Rod’s stance that morning seemed off. He was hunched over, his optics did not glow as bright as before and his paint looked a shade darker than normal. Hot Rod never let his paint job look that bad. Ever.

 

“Hey.” Hot Rod mumbled back.

 

“Did you uh, have trouble falling into recharge? My berth did feel a little weird at first but I got over it pretty quickly.”

 

“Good for you.” Hot Rod started to walk away and Bulk easily caught up and stepped in time with the speedster thanks in part of his large pedes.

 

“Hey mech,” Bulkhead gently tapped a digit on Hot Rod’s shoulder. “Are you feeling okay? I can’t really sense your EMF that well.”

 

“Maybe I’m not in a mood to share my field today. Ever thought of that, Bulk’?” The red and orange mech snapped.

 

 _So how he’s like anytime I ask him how he feels then._ Bulkhead thought sardonically while they reached the mess hall.

 

During Wheeljack’s animated tour he told them where they could refuel each mega-cycle, which was an old concessions stand that the humans who originally owned the territory built. The robotic scientist refurbished it into a larger structure that was directly connected to the Energon convertors that allowed the Autobots to have easy access to all the provisions they needed. Both Bulk’ and Roddy grabbed two cubes and filled them to the brim with fresh Energon. There was even a small collection of additives next to the dispenser and Bulk’ eagerly went over and sprinkled on some grated lead sulfide crystals.

 

“You’re gonna drown your Energon if you put more on there.” Hot Rod joked weakly after noticing Bulkhead put a handsome amount onto his serving.

 

“Hey, I’m not the one loading my plate with rust sticks,” the green snowplow teased.

 

“I haven’t seen a rust stick since the Fall of Cybertron.” Hot Rod retorted. He then grabbed a small cup of mercury sauce for dipping. “I love these more than anything.”

 

The two of them reached a steel-enforced table and grabbed two square shaped chairs for them to sit.

 

Bulkhead chuckled. “Really? More than… Arcee?”

 

Hot Rod followed the green mech’s confused line of sight and noticed the white and pink femm heading towards the outdoor canteen.

 

“Eep,” the red and orange mech yelped and dived right under the table right beneath Bulkhead’s legs.

 

“Hey. Watch where you’re going, I almost tripped.” Bulkhead tilted his helm to look at his frightened friend better.

 

“She can’t see me.” Hot Rod insisted in a harsh whisper.  

 

“I’m pretty sure she already knows you’re here.”

 

“I don’t mean the base. I mean here at this spot,” the red and orange mech clarified.

 

Bulkhead ex-vented. “You’re gonna have to talk to her eventually.”

 

“Not after what I did. She probably hates my internals after what I did.”

 

“What was it that you did that was so bad again?” Bulkhead had trouble finding the memory file of that specific event.

 

“I broke up with her.”

 

“Ah.” Bulkhead nodded his helm in understanding.

 

“Scrap, here she comes.” Hot Rod crawled until he was sitting behind the larger mech.

 

“Just act natural Bulk’,” he instructed while pressing his frame against Bulkhead’s back panels.

 

Bulkhead reset his optics and turned rigid as Arcee approached the table.

 

::What the Pit are you doing?:: Hot Rod demanded through their commlink.

 

::Acting natural…?::

 

::I am so smelted::

 

“Hi.” Arcee waved at Bulkhead.

 

Bulkhead projected a calm EMF and shyly waved back. “Uh, hi.”

 

“Bulkhead, wasn’t it?”

 

“Yeah. That’s me.”

 

“You know H-406?”

 

“I might.” Bulkhead said vaguely. 

 

“Right. Can you tell him to stop trying to hide behind you?”

 

Bulkhead’s frame sagged in defeat right as Hot Rod slowly stood up.

 

Old partners, romantic and professional, regarded each other for the first time in decades. Bulkhead was not sure if he should be there with them, but he also did not want to leave his cube of energon either. He thought to just take the cube with him but then Hot Rod opened his intake valve.

 

Hot Rod attempted to break the awkward silence with a sheepish laugh. Bulkhead fought the urge to roll his optics. He knew where this was going.  

 

“Arcee.” He attempted to turn up the charm. (Read: attempted.) “Hey. Wow you look great. I kinda miss the blue but the pink is a nice touch.**** Very popular color ever since the war started. Probably had something to do with that femm that was Optimus Prime’s second for a while,” he trailed off as Arcee’s stare froze him.

 

“Hello H-406.” Arcee rested her servos on her hips.

 

Hot Rod winced slightly. “It’s actually Hot Rod now.”

 

“So, you’re actually friends with ‘Bee?”

 

The red and orange speedster reset his optics. Bulkhead assumed his friend was not expecting the conversation to go that route. “Yeah.”

 

Arcee nodded in acceptance. “Small galaxy. He’s a good mech. Not sure where he got that from if you knew him for vorns.”

 

Hot Rod airlessly chuckled. “That’s-ha-funny. Really, good one.”

 

Next he took into account of what Arcee said and was curious enough to ask in a nervous tone, “You and ‘Bee-you guys aren’t, you know.”

 

It was Arcee’s turn to become startled. “Excuse me?”

 

“I mean if you are then that’s okay.”

 

“No, no we’re not.” Arcee shook her helm quickly.

 

“Oh, good. Phew.” Hot Rod ex-vented. “That would be-um, not bad but uh, a little uh, weird.”

 

“’Bee’s just a friend. I’m involved with somebot else.”

 

"Oh?”

 

“We’ve only been official for a few stellar-cycles now but he’s a good mech,” Arcee kept her explanation unclear.

 

Then she ex-vented and appeared exhausted. “Look, the real reason I wanted to talk with you is because I don’t want anything bad between us. I know we cut things off on somewhat bad terms and I’m just as guilty as you for the things I said but since we’re going to be working together again I don’t want anything to compromise the mission we have here. Okay, so that’s all I wanted to say to you.”

 

Bulkhead noticed that the tense posture Hot Rod was carrying suddenly dropped and he felt relief flood from the small mech’s EMF.

 

“That’s,” Hot Rod reset his vocalizer. “I completely understand.”

 

Arcee’s optical ridges slanted down. “You do?”

 

“Yeah, yeah, I get it. I don’t want any bad energon between us either. Bygones and all that.”

 

“Yeah,” Arcee agreed cheerfully. “Water under the bridge.”

 

“Huh?” Both Bulkhead and Hot Rod did a double take.

 

“Oh, sorry,” Acree smiled apologetically. “It’s an Earth saying. I’ve been brushing up on what the humans have been teaching me. Especially Charlie.”

 

“Is that so?” Bulkhead heard Hot Rod speak in a strained voice.

 

“She could give you some lessons later. It’ll make living here a lot easier, trust me.” Arcee beamed until a light on her right arm blinked. “Oh, I’m needed at the communication tower. Normally Jazz takes this shift but,” she grinned knowingly. “Optimus secretly told everybot to let him and Prowl have temporary leave of absence.”

 

“Wow. I thought she’d be angrier at you.”

 

“You’re not helping Bulk’.”

 

“I mean you really broke her spark and she’s doing pretty well. Pit, she even got herself a new mech to court her.”

 

“I get it, okay?” Hot Rod lost his composure. “She’s happy and that means I’m happy. Everybot is all happy to be here. Stuck here when we could be back on Cybertron fighting for our freedom.”

 

Bulkhead had recoiled from Hot Rod’s tirade but tried to say attentively, “You and I weren’t even there when Optimus Prime made everybot evacuate. And they had to because the Decepticon numbers were getting bigger.”

 

“We have the Prime on our side.”

 

“That’s not enough.”

 

“Then when will it be enough Bulk’?” Hot Rod hit up. “We can we go back? Once Megatron has more ‘cons? When Bulkhead? When?”

 

Bulkhead dropped his jaw and tried to find an answer but hesitated.

 

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” Hot Rod grabbed his cube and drunk all of it in one gulp. He took the rust sticks and shoved them into his Subspace.

 

“Uh, where are you going?” Bulkhead asked as he watched his friend leave the table.

 

“I’m… gonna go for a drive.”

 

“You can’t!” Bulkhead responded. “We don’t have Earth-based vehicle modes yet.”  

 

“Fine! Then I’ll go stare at a wall for a groon until our other friend comes here with his _little charge_.”

 

The only thing Bulkhead could do was watch helplessly as one of his oldest friends stalk off. He wished he knew of a way to get Roddy smiling again. The green snowplow thought there had to be something to get the three of them close once more. But what? What could they do together that did not require racing but still be a lot of fun? His optics glazed over his glowing blue squre of energon and that was when inspiration struck.

 

 _I got it!_ Bulkhead excitedly thought as he quickly dug through his Subspace.

* * *

 

Bumblebee hardly recharged a wink last night. He was so happy to know that his oldest friends were less than five hic-erm-kilometors from where he sat.***** Sometimes it was difficult to remember that he was not on Cybertron anymore and its units of measurement were not used on Earth.

 

Anyway, ‘Bee could barely contain the joy inside his Spark as he zipped through the morning small town traffic and headed up to the base.

 

“Oh, this is so great. I can’t wait to hang out with Bulk’ and H-4-I mean, Hot Rod again. Mech, that’s going to take time getting used to calling him that. I always called him H-406 in my helm before. There’s so much I can’t wait to tell them. Especially how we met.”

 

“That’s nice.” He heard Charlie say faintly.

 

Bumblebee buzzed with worry. “Charlie, are you okay?”

 

“Yeah,” the mechanic said again. “I’m fine. Just tired.”

 

“Okay. So what should we do with Bulk’ and Hot Rod first? Watch a movie? I think Wheeljack told me he got that old film projector working and converted it so it can play VHS tapes. Or maybe we can head over to Witwicky’s and get washed. Oh, but maybe we should help them find new car forms first before we do anything outside the base.”

 

“Hey ‘Bee.” Charlie chimed, breaking his train of thought processing.

 

“What is it, Charlie?”

 

“How long ago was it when you last saw Bulkhead and Hot Rod?”

 

“Eh, about six vorns, I think.” Bumblebee half-guessed. “Maybe closer to five. Why?”

 

“I just,” Charlie faltered before saying, “was wondering if you think they changed a lot since then? Like personality wise?”

 

“They seem like the same old Bulk’ and Hot Rod to me. Bulkhead is still clumsy but likeable as ever, and Hot Rod has that same daredevil attitude he had since boot camp,” the Camero recalled fondly. “They may seem rough around the edges but they both have golden Sparks underneath their panels.”

 

“So they’re the exact same way you remember them?”

 

“Do you think they seem different?” Bumblebee was not sure what Charlie was asking him.

 

“Well, Bulkhead does seem pretty nice. He’s like how you described him but Hot Rod…” The mechanic wavered.

 

“You think he’s not very nice?” ‘Bee asked.

 

Charlie bit her lower lip. “Well…”

 

“Don’t worry. Hot Rod gets shy sometimes.”

 

“Shy?” Charlie arched an eyebrow in incredulity.

 

“He pretends to have a tough exterior but he’s nicer than he lets on.” ‘Bee said in a comforting manner. “I’m sure once he gets to know you he’ll warm up.”

 

“If you say so,” Charlie seemed to struggle to say.

 

“It’ll be fine. We’ll all be friends before nightfall.” The Calvary Scout predicted stanchly as he drove inside the base’s entrance.

* * *

 

Charlie was not sure she shared the same hopefulness as ‘Bee. After remembering how Hot Rod behaved the other day she was not very enthusiastic either but she had to try for ‘Bee’s sake and it was her mission to help all the Autobots become familiar with Earth culture. Even the ones that acted like dickweeds needed her help.

 

 _Speak of the devil_ , Charlie thought as ‘Bee parked right by where Hot Rod and Bulkhead were. Optimus Prime was having a discussion with them. Charlie got out of the Camaro and was able to hear Hot Rod ask the Autobots’ leader a question. 

 

“Optimus Prime, sir. Last night you said you would explain everything about our new mission here. With all due respect, sir, I would like to hear what’s going on. What are the rules?”

 

“Yes, you and Bulkhead both need to understand how things on this planet work.” Optimus Prime concurred. “I have decided that task will befall onto Charlie Watson, our liaison,” he raised a servo towards the direction where the mechanic was. “And Bumblebee who currently acts as her and her family’s guardian.”

 

“Who’s Bumblebee?” Hot Rod snorted. “Sorry, that name just sounds so ridiculous.”

 

Charlie clenched her teeth and frowned at the hothead. She thought the name was a good one. It matched his outfit and everything.

 

“Besides I thought B-127 was looking after the humans.”

 

“I’m Bumblebee.” ‘Bee raised a servo and held an eager expression. “It’s my new designation. Charlie was the one that gave it to me.”

 

“What?” “Really?” Hot Rod and Bulkhead said at once.

 

“I mean really in a good way,” the green giant insisted. “I’m a’ more surprised. I think it sounds nice. Don’t you think it sounds good Roddy?”

  
Bulkhead stared pointedly at the smaller mech in question.

 

Hot Rod pursed his dermas and turned away while crossing his arms. “Yeah, sure. Whatever.”

 

Optimus Prime merely raised an optical ridge and said nothing. He turned his attention back on Charlie and ‘Bee. “If you two believe you can take things from here, I will leave you to it.”

 

“You can count on us, Optimus.” ‘Bee did his usual salute. Naturally, Bulkhead and Hot Rod’s bewildered reactions were expected. Not enough to make Charlie laugh unfortunately.

 

“Yeah,” she smiled uncertainly. “We got this.”

 

She totally did not believe a single word she just said.

 

The red and blue Freightliner nodded with approval and sauntered off on his thumping pedes.

 

Hot Rod immediately unstraightened himself and started to stretch. “So,” he drew out. “What are you gonna tell us today, teach?” The red and orange mech smiled lazily at ‘Bee.

 

“First of all, Charlie and I will explain how we met and how that all led the Autobots to set a base near her home.” ‘Bee specified. He glanced over at Charlie who nodded once she got the message.

 

“Yeah, and I’ll tell what I can about what humans are and what we say and think,” Charlie explained as best as she could.

 

“Can you explain what a Bumblebee is?"

 

“I’ll do the very best I can, Hot Rod.” Charlie answered through clamped down teeth.

 

“It’s actually a funny story,” ‘Bee revealed. “Well, maybe not a ha-ha funny story and it has a lot of sad parts actually but I think it’s pretty good. Anyway, so it all started when I first arrived on Earth over two stellar-cycles ago this orn.”

* * *

 

Location: Closest Interstate From Brighton, CA. Time: 0900 Hours

 

Above a manmade ditch next to the highway stood thick pine trees far as the optic could see. Since humans commuting on that road were in a hurry no one noticed two mecha hiding in the shadows. Both had primary black and white plating but that was where the similarities ended. The one with a blue glass visor was talking to the one with doorwings on his back.

 

“So here I am knees deep in big trouble afta the alarm blared off. I’m literally one klik away from bein’ blasted ta oblivion by Shockwave’s newest termination gun. Just after I take cover-”

 

“He commences his speech protocols.” Prowl suggested in an even intone. Though the amusement in his optics said otherwise.******

 

Jazz rolled his optics but held the biggest grin on his dermas. “That’s exactly what he does. For like a whole breem, Shocks goes on this monologue that I swore was typed out already about how I’m such a _simple-processing fool_ compared ta him, telling me how my _shameful demise is imminent_ ,” he quoted in a feeble attempt of impersonating Shockwave’s uppity articulation and wide arm gesturing.

 

“He blathers,” Prowl offered.

 

“Just like that.” Jazz recalled excitedly. “Blathers and blathers, on and on. He has me cornered and the only thing he does is call me an idiot in every synonym he could process. I was starting to think I’d rather get zapped than hear him for another nano-klik.”

 

“Sounded like it was pure torture,” Prowl said with his dry wit.

 

Jazz cackled. “Damn straight it was… oh, does that look like a good form to ya?” He pointed at a silver _1985 Mazda RX-7 FC_ pass by.

 

While Prowl looked at the moving vehicle, Jazz took a quick peek of him and smiled. Prowl had hardly changed internally and externally since the Head of Spec Ops saw him last. To most, Prowl came off as cold and distant, so emotionless that he could be mistaken for a drone, but Jazz knew better. Sure he may have moments where he acted like, as a human might say, a prick but he just cared about doing his job efficiently as possible.******* Since he used to be a cop that prickly attitude was somewhat justified. Jazz was one of the very few that got to see Prowl when he lowered his guard and saw a gentlemech with a wit so dry and funny that it could make Soundwave laugh (and Jazz did once but that was another story). Nobot else noticed how Prowl truly cared about his low-ranking soldiers, making sure they were not too battered from fighting. The doorwings were a dead giveaway whenever they fluttered angrily at seeing as much as a scratch on a private. Jazz still remembered the time when Prowl mowed down a whole fleet of vehicons when one of them tore his surrogate brother, Smokescreen’s, arm off.

 

The Praxian was many things, but an uncaring mech was not one of them. Plus it also helped that despite how prudish he appeared to be, Prowl was a great kisser.

 

Speaking of which.  

 

Jazz thought he was being clever by leaning over to where Prowl was sitting and brought his dermas near Prowl’s when the former Law Enforcer obliviously pulled himself away.

 

Prowl shook his helm. “That form will simply not do. The glass paneling in the rear stretches too far for my liking. Moving right along, how did you possibly get out of that predicament?”

 

Jazz recovered swiftly and cheekily grinned. “I used the classic trick of blastin’ my speakers until they caused Shocks’ computers ta malfunction. While he was distracted I jumped outta a window and used a grappling hook to shimmy down.”

 

“A forty-three floor tower?” Prowl noted with a hint of incredulity.

 

“I had a very long piece of rope,” Jazz deadpanned.

 

Both mecha gave each other a hard stare before Prowl was the first to crack and laugh. Jazz followed suit not too long afterwards. They continued to cachinnate for a whole five kliks until their helms leaned next to one another. As the two of them reset their air intake protocols Jazz attempted once more to lean over towards the Praxian’s dermas when Prowl once _again_ moved away at the last second.

 

That time Jazz knew Prowl was doing that on purpose, but what he could not understand was why.

 

“So, uh,” the Porsche plucked at his servos out of habit. “Do I really need to ask permission for a kiss from you now?”

 

Prowl titled his helm in that adorable way that made Jazz’s Spark sing. “Is there a reason you desire to,” he asked in a deliberately coy manner.

 

Jazz reset his vocalizer nervously. “Does ya Conjunx need a reason ta kiss you?”

 

“You had no qualms doing so while we were in public,” Prowl stated standoffishly and turned part of his frame away from Jazz’s gaze.

 

 _Ah, that’s why he’s actin’ like that_. “Were you embarrassed that I smooched you with everybot watchin’?”

 

Prowl’s cheeks blushed a blue hue. “Please cease smirking at once.”

 

“Aw, somebot got all flustered just because of one little kiss,” Jazz cooed.

 

“Public displays of affection-” Prowl began.

 

“Aren’t illegal in this part of the planet,” Jazz said calmly. “Believe me, I checked.” He added with a wink.

 

Prowl ex-vented in mild frustration. “You are incorrigible.”

 

“You always said that was a quality you liked about me.” Jazz scooch’ed until he was sitting next to Prowl again.

 

“So, what’s really on yer mind? Don’t try and be all aloof. You can’t keep secrets from me.”

 

“I,” Prowl stared at the road, his expression pensive. “have reservations about Privates Bulkhead and Hot Rod.”

 

Jazz’s optics reset. “Really? They seem like good kids tah me.”

 

“Kids?”

 

“Oh, uh, sorry. Earth term for a youngling.”

 

“Ah,” Prowl nodded in acceptance. “I agree with your previous statement; they are good at Spark and are proficient at following orders, but it has been only the three of us patrolling the galaxy to find lost Autobots for the last two vorns. I am uncertain if they will be able to adjust to this new environment. Hot Rod, especially.”

 

“I would ask Ironhide ‘bout that red speedster. He told me he knew the kid’s surrogates,” Jazz said furthermore when he became aware of Prowl’s curious mien.

 

Prowl hummed. “I shall take up your glyph of advice but do you think Ironhide’s history with Hot Rod will be enough?”

 

Jazz simply shrugged. “It’s a start, but I have a feeling that Lil’ Bee and his human friend Charlie might help.”

 

“Hot Rod does not seem ardent on aligning himself with the humans. The one named Charlie especially.”

 

“It won’t be something that takes just a cycle to fix.” Jazz reasoned. “You gotta be patient with younglings.”

 

“They can be stubborn.” Prowl acknowledged grudgingly.

 

“In my experience, stubbornness can be a beneficial quality. Jus’ need to redirect it somewhere else.”

 

Prowl’s default frown twitched into a small smile. “You still remember that?”

 

“It was one of the firs’ things you said while trying to recruit me.” Jazz’s visor gleamed.

 

“Charmer.”

 

Jazz chuckled. “Only you’d think me remembering how you caught me with a spike strip and Energon whip as charming.”

 

“It all worked out in the end. Did it not?” Prowl asked in faint amusement.

 

“Mmm-hmmm, it sure did.” Jazz beamed before he nuzzled his helm against Prowl’s neck cables. His pleased response encouraged the action.

 

“Ain’t this such a lovely light cycle?” Jazz asked while they watched for cars. “All we need is some music fer atmosphere. How ‘bout somethin’ on the radio? Since I now know what your new favorite kind of Earth music is, why not I look for something classical?”

 

During the drive, Jazz went through dozens of radio stations until he found one that the Praxian truly enjoyed; music from two hundred years in Earth’s past. Because of course that was his favorite type of sound. 

 

“That Bach human has a way with music. Very… immaculate,” Prowl complimented.******** “But I would much rather hear your music instead. It is quite pleasing to the audials.”

 

“Aww,” it was now Jazz’s turn to blush before he sobered. “I wish I could but I left my electro-bass back on Cybertron.” He ex-vented sadly.

 

Prowl’s small smiled shifted into a frown before he straightened himself. “Well, then I must ask you a very important question then.”

 

“What’s that?”

 

“How much do you love me?” The former Law Enforcer asked while producing a neon green eighteen stringed instrument shaped like the Earth letters ‘q’ and ‘p’ together out of his Subspace.

 

Jazz gasped. “An electro-sitar!”

 

Prowl lowered his helm fretfully. “I know it is not your Aghartan electro-bass but I was planning to give this to you to make up all the anniversaries we missed and hope this will suffice.”

 

The answer he was given was a joyful Porsche tacking him to the ground, kissing his helm everywhere including the chevron, which was considered to be a sacred spot that only surrogates, siblings and Conjunx Endura could ever touch.

 

Jazz whined just a tad when Prowl carefully pushed their helms apart. “I am 99.99% sure that you are pleased with the gift?”

 

Jazz laughed breathlessly. “Not jus’ that I love you, Prowler.”

 

“So do I.”

 

Both of them were content to snuggle together when Prowl’s optics widened at what he spotted on the road.

 

“Oh, ya see somethin’ ya like finally?” Jazz wondered aloud while trying to find what his partner discerned.

 

“That,” was all Prowl said as he pointed at a certain car.

 

Jazz smiled. “I had a feeling you’d go fer that kinda vehicle.”

 

“Is it what Earth authorities use for law enforcement?” Jazz was surprised. Prowl actually almost sounded excited.

 

“Wanna give it a try?”

* * *

 

Sheriff Lock patrolled through the highway that led towards town. Normally he would not drive so far but every once in a while he would go to his favorite submarine sandwich shop by a gas station five minutes out of Brighton. No one else knew he did that and he preferred it that way. He did not want other people to know where to get a meatball sub like the one he had.  

 

Consequently he was about to take a bite of his sandwich when he heard a strange sound that reminded him of colliding metal. He tried to turn around to see what was going on but he accidently drove over the edge of the road where a large rock was. The cruiser drove over it and the large bump made him drop his sub and it fell out of the car window. All poor Lock could do was stare miserably at his dirtied meatball sub.

 

“I knew I shoulda just went out for Chinese,” Lock said with a sigh.

* * *

 

“Well?” the Praxian asked his Sparkmate.

 

Prowl’s new Earth vehicle mode was a similar shape and size as his Cybertronian one. The colors were still the same but now the only parts of the car that were white were the doors and roof. The front and rear were purely black. The glyphs that were on the sides were replaced with the words _Brighton Falls P.D_ and had a golden six-pointed star above the letters. On each side of the windshield there were two small searchlights.

 

It felt similar and different from what he had as the Praxus Chief of Law Enforcement. Personally he thought he looked presentable enough but it only mattered if Jazz liked it as well.

 

“Hmm, how about ya transform next,” was Jazz’s only response.

 

 TSCHE-chu-chu-chu-TSCHE!

 

Prowl shifted into his bi-pedal mode with ease. He sensed that he did not appear different from his Cybertronian frame, aside from the electronic repaint and the new searchlight kibble on his shoulder pads.

 

“I loath repeating myself Jazz so I will simply ask how do I look?”

 

Jazz had remained silent for over a klik and Prowl became a little unnerved by it. The Polyhexian was normally a lot more talkative than that.

 

“How honest do ya want me ta be?”

 

Prowl was expecting the worst. “I look horrible, do I?”

 

Jazz quickly shook his helm. “Don’t ya dare think that for one nano-klik. I was gonna say the opposite.”

 

The Police car tilted his helm in confusion. He then saw Jazz stare adoringly at him. Prowl was tempted to roll his optics at his Conjunx’s behavior. “Jazz,” he called to reclaim the Porsche’s attention.

 

“Ah, righ’ sorry. What I was going to say was that I don’t think I can wait until we’re back at the base before I wanna do things a mech should never speak about in public.”

 

When Jazz’s EMF reached the former Law Enforcer, he got read of his exact desires. Prowl’s faceplates warmed and became aghast at the small mech’s blunt response. “That is not what I anticipated you would say. And out in the wildness? Have you no dignity?”

 

“I’m not hearing a no,” Jazz said in a sing-song tone.

 

“You _truly_ **are** incorrigible.” Prowl ex-vented helplessly.

 

“I’m only teasing you… kinda.” The Porsche added after Prowl gave him a calculating stare. “But we probably should be headin’ back if that’s what ya really want.”

 

“I have yet to give Supreme Commander Prime my report but he insisted that I needed to go out with you. Not that I am complaining, merely making a statement.”

 

“I know. Prime’s always been a romantic at Spark,” Jazz revealed while placed his new electro-sitar with utmost care inside his Subspace. He converted into his Porsche form and Prowl followed his actions. Jazz then drove down the makeshift path when they returned to an old road before he continued, “Prime knew we haven’t seen each other in vorns-”

 

“2.4 vorns, exactly one half of a meta-cycle and one orn... I have been counting.” Prowl admitted shyly.

 

Jazz’s EMF flowed near his with genuine delight evidently featured.

 

“You have grately missed me then?”

 

Prowl heard Jazz warmly laugh. “I felt that our reunion back at the base was enough of a clue-in.”

 

The Ford Victoria considered his beloved’s words and bashfully suggested, “Perhaps there is time for us to take a more secluded route back home?”

 

It took exactly two astroseconds for Jazz to comprehend Prowl’s hint and then for his field to convey how pleased that idea made him.

 

“I know just the trail to take.”

 

Both Autobots revved their engines and playfully maneuvered around one another as they drove through the summer light.    

 

**Beginning of Old & New Friends Arc**

* * *

  

 **Q-A:** Aaaaaaaaand cut! That’s the end of chapter 12. I said this chapter would have drama and tears. I told you all didn’t I? Okay, maybe not a lot of drama, that’s saved for the next chapter. So, did any of you ProwlxJazz shippers enjoy the last part? X3 Or how about their reunion. Did you like that? I enjoyed writing it that’s for sure.

 

Now we need to talk about Hot Rod.

I understand if a lot of you are wondering why he’s acting the way he does and I promise there will be an explanation, especially why he’s acting rude around Charlie. That will be answered in the next chapter. Like I said many chapters ago, if a character starts out in a way you don’t like they’ll go through heavy development and change. That’s what will happen to Roddy but he won’t be completely different. I’ve always seen Hot Rod/Rodimus Prime as a flawed person. A very flawed person. I have mixed feelings about the version from the G1 cartoon and how he acted in that. The less I talk about the Last Knight incarnation of Hot Rod, the better. The one interpretation of him that I think is the best is the one we see during the MTTMTE/Lost Light saga. He (along with a lot of others) went through a lot during that story and seeing his character traits that he’s famous for get dissected and even questioned upon was very fascinating. I liked his relationship with Drift and how he kept questioning his leadership in a way that made sense and I actually thought the way the comic ended seemed legit, even if it was sad. That doesn’t mean I like everything about Roddy’s character in that comic book series but I really do respect a lot of the risks that writers/artists made with him and turned him (Imho) one of the most compelling characters in the TF franchise. Hot Rod has come along way from the Bumblebee-expy that indirectly caused Optimus Prime’s death in 1986.

 

Yeah, I’m not over that and probably never will. XD

 

I’m reminding y’all again that I’m gonna be gone from August third through the thirteenth. I won’t get to be on the computer during it since it’s rural up there. I hope you will understand.

 

References:

 

*A reference to the IDW comics. It became a recurring thing for Rod/Rodimus to surf in SPACE! Why do I have a feeling Otis would want to do that? XD

 

**A purple Hot Rod/Rodimus? That would never work. ;)

 

*** H-406 is something I made up. H is for Hot, which is pretty self-explanatory. The 4 in 406 is supposed to represent the 4 in 198 **4** (the year the G1 Transformers line was released) while the 6 in the 406 is a slight reference to the year the original movie came out, 198 **6**.

 

**** A blue Arcee? That would also never work. X)

 

***** A hic is the Cybertron equivalent of a Klick/Kilometer.

 

****** Guess the movie the line and the ones before and after it are from. XD (Off-topic, anyone else think Samuel L. Jackson would make a good voice for Jazz? Personally my choice is tied with Will Smith or Michael B. Jordan.)

 

******* Thank TF Wiki for creating such a hilarious running gag of calling our favorite Military Strategist a prick. XDDD

 

******** This is based on a line Jazz said in the Optimus Prime #8 comic by IDW called _What’s It Really Like_. X3 The moment I heard Prowl’s name I couldn’t resist adding that into the fanfic.

 

Songs Used:

 

Chapter title: Best of Friends by Richard Johnston <\- I’m happy I finally got to use a Disney song in this story. They’re hard to come by in the 1980s for some reason.

 

 

~Please give comments, kudos and subscribe. I’ll answer any questions to the best of my abilities. :D And be sure to…

 

Keep on Writin’ and Rockin’


	15. No One Is Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Hot Rod is still acting like a jerk and someone needs to make sure Ratchet gets his full nine hours of recharge.

**Q-A:** Hey everyone! I’m back with another continuation of Riding A Sunset! :D I want to give major thanks to all the kudos I’ve been getting your kudos and your comments have been lovely and helpful as ever. I’m sorry this came out a little later than usual. I had to help my family with cleaning out a room and this chapter is a little longer because I wanted to leave something special for you all before my big trip from August 3rdto the 13th. I’ll be gone for a whole ten days and I might be pretty tired when I get back. Hopefully, I have a new chapter after this one uploaded before August ends. Here’s hoping.

 

 ** _Disclaimer:_** I do not own  _The Transformers._ It solely belongs to  _Hasbro_ and  _Paramount_. The song referenced in this chapter belongs to its respected producers/singers.

 

 **Warnings** for this chapter are:

Swearing, mentions of death, war,

some more slight xenophobia, and possibly PTSD.

 

 

Sometimes people leave you,  
Halfway through the wood.  
Others may deceive you,  
You decide what’s good.  
You decide alone.  
But no one is alone.

\- “No One Is Alone”

by Stephen Sondheim

* * *

 

Location: Autobot Base, CA. Date: June 20, 1988

 

“-Then I got the comm from Ironhide about Polar Claw’s ship landing in Yosemite and took Charlie’s creator back to the base when we then learned you guys and Prowl were arriving too. We were all glad about that since Sector 7 was having trouble getting the government’s approval to let all of us go and you did our job instead.

 

“And the rest… well, you already know what happened after that.” Bumblebee chuckled after he finished the story.

 

It took him and Charlie over two hours to explain everything that they and the other Autobots and humans went through starting from the duo’s reunion to the memorable vacation at Yosemite. They had a few interruptions by Bulkhead and Hot Rod at various times during the regaling. Such as Bulkhead asking how ‘Bee ended up in the marine junkyard (Charlie said that her ‘Uncle’ Hank got it from some confused campers that found ‘Bee half-rusted by a lake).

 

How come Charlie’s coloring looked different that morning than the other night? Both Charlie and ‘Bee had to explain that she simply changed her clothes and that was something all humans did daily. She was currently wearing a white sleeveless tank top with the name _Stüssy_ in a wild scripture in black font. She wore her necklace and had bracelets on her wrists. Her hair was tied up in a ponytail because of how hot it was outside and wore her dad’s old _San Francisco Giants_ baseball cap. It was the same reason she had no mascara on like she normally did and wore cuffed blue jeans that reached her ankles.

 

Or why did he think street racing against Tripp was a good idea? ‘Bee admitted that wasn’t one of his proudest moments. Hot Rod only asked one question during the anecdote.

 

“Why did you trust Charlie so easily?” the Cybertronian Dome Zero lookalike said while studying the two. “I get that you lost your memory but there had to be something else because you couldn’t have just rely on her so quickly.”

 

‘Bee shared a glance with Charlie and ex-vented while finding the right words. “I had no idea where or who I was when I first awoke from my stasis lock. I stood right in front of Charlie, trying to figure out what she was when she moved so fast and I tried to get away. The reason I kept my distance from Charlie at first is probably because I instinctually remembered how Sector 7 attacked me along with my fight with Blitzwing.”

 

Charlie was sitting on a crate next to ‘Bee during their recounting of events. She was close enough to slide her right hand into his left pointing digit. The Camaro was touched by her comforting gesture and resumed without another pause.

 

“Charlie then approached me once she saw I was more scared of her than she was of me and promised she wasn’t going to hurt me. We then tried to figure out each other after that with her giving me my new designation since I couldn’t remember my old one. Ever since then she did everything she could to make me feel comfortable, safe and try to find out who I was. She risked her life in order to save mine at least half a dozen times by now.”

 

‘Bee stared adoringly at the human. “She became one of my best friends.”

 

“Mine too.” Charlie smiled.   

 

‘Bee was oblivious to the deepening frown Hot Rod was displaying. “And you were named after a tiny Earth insect that collects sticky pollen and dies after using its weapon once.” Hot Rod exposited dryly.

 

“I gave him that name because he could only buzz when we met and it matched his outfit,” Charlie said defensively.

 

“I really love the name,” Bumblebee said to assuage Charlie’s exasperation. “I think it fits a lot more than B-127 did.”

 

“I like the name too,” Bulkhead said, helpfully. “It’s easy for me to remember and Rod and I can still technically call him ‘Bee but with two extra e’s at the end.”

 

“But bees can fly and B’ can’t,” Hot Rod furthered. “Not a very accurate name for a ground based vehicle.”

 

From the corner of his optic ‘Bee noticed Charlie’s frown deepened. She was clearly not happy with what Hot Rod was saying. He struggled to figure out a way to dispel the tension when Bulkhead reset his vocalizer.

 

“Hey, uh ‘Bee I gotta a surprise for you and Roddy.” The Cybertronian snowplow dug through his Subspace and pulled out a large illuminated six-sided rectangle that was the size of Bumblebee’s helm.

 

“Rusted Pit.” ‘Bee’s optics widened.

 

Charlie squinted while beholding the glowing square. “Is that a-”

 

“CUBE!” Both the yellow and red/orange mecha shouted exuberantly.

 

“Bulk’ you little glitch,” Hot Rod tried to envelope the bigger ‘bot in a neck hold with his arm but was unable to due to the height difference. “How in Primus’ name did you get a cube?”

 

“How _long_ have you’ve been keeping it from us?” ‘Bee demanded.

 

Bulkhead laughed while pushing the smaller ‘bots from his frame. “I found it at the Tyger Pax Stadium ruins while I was still assigned with the Wreckers. It was one of the few things there that wasn’t, you know, broken.” He rubbed a digit over the cube and stared at his reflection on the mirrored surface. “Rack’in’Ruin were nice enough to let me keep it, though they began to argue about it later but by then a buncha Rainmakers showed up and that ended the argument there.”

 

 Charlie cleared her throat and waved to get their attention. “I’ll probably sound like an idiot asking this, but what’s special about that cube?”

 

Hot Rod gaped at the human, completely aghast. “How can you not know the greatest thing that exists?”

 

“Because I’m not from Cybertron?” Charlie pointed out with a rhetorical question.

 

The Dome Zero doppelgänger held back a wince and rubbed the back of his neck. “Uh, B’, a little help here?”

 

Bumblebee rolled his optics in amusement. “Cube is a game that was popular on Cybertron before the war. Normally each team consists of six players, two in their vehicle modes while the four are in their root forms. Non-professional teams can have fewer players but they both still need to be even on both sides. The cube that Bulk’ is holding is full of energon and possesses an A.I. so it can move on its own. The point of the game is for one team to hold on the cube for a full forty astroseconds, or roughly ten Earth seconds in your case. You can try to grab the cube from your opponent by any means but you’re not aloud to change form during the game period. And definitely no running anybot over. Anyway, whoever holds the cube a whole ten seconds gets to absorb the energon from within and win a point. Did I explain it okay?”

 

‘Bee noticed Charlie pursed her lips while she thought over what he said. The Camaro waited patiently for her response.

 

“So it’s similar to football, where you carry the ball around and tackle your opponent to try and get it away from them?” the mechanic suggested with crinkled eyebrows.

 

The three mecha exchanged looks with varying degrees of conflicted stares.

 

::Should we say yes or no?:: Bulkhead asked after ‘Bee accepted his commlink request.

 

::Sometimes it’s just better smile and nod for yes:: The black and yellow ‘bot told his comrades. All three of them gave the human forced grins and nodded in unison.

 

Charlie narrowed her eyes. “Are you guys okay?”

 

“Yeah, sure we are.” ‘Bee reset his intake valve.

 

“So~” Hot Rod drew out and then nabbed the cube from Bulkhead’s servos. “Are we just gonna stand here all light cycle or are we gonna play some Cube?”

 

Bulkhead laughed before pounding his three-digit servos together. “My time as a Wrecker taught me when to use my force and how _much_ to use.”

 

‘Bee’s optics brightened with excitement until they landed on Charlie’s form. He quickly did the math in his processor and his shoulders dropped.

 

“Actually, guys I don’t think we should play that.”

 

“What? You can’t be serious.”

 

‘Bee reluctantly nodded. “I am, Hot Rod. Cube can get pretty rough. Sometimes the A.I. can even hit a mech or femm if they’re not careful.”

 

Bulkhead vented. “Uh, actually that cube over there doesn’t have an A.I. I think it musta burned out vorns ago.”

 

“So we’d have to play the game the old fashion way,” Hot Rod shrugged. “No big deal.”

 

“Actually that makes it even more dangerous to play,” ‘Bee objected.

 

“Why do you care if we get hurt all of a sudden?”

 

The Calvary scout rubbed the back of his helm. “I’m not worried about you two. I just would rather we play a game that Charlie will less likely get hurt playing.”

 

“Oh, yeah.” Bulkhead’s optics turned downcast. “I guess the cube would be a little heavy for a human to lift, or run around with, or dodge if it gets thrown at them.”

 

“Wait, wait, wait.” The alien Dome Zero waved his servos. “You want us to not play the best sport ever just so the human can participate with us?”

 

‘Bee tiredly vented out, “I don’t want Charlie to feel left out.”

 

For some reason that just made Hot Rod’s growing frown deepen.

 

::Bumblebee:: Ratchet called through his commlink with the scout.

 

‘Bee ex-vented in relief from the perfect timing and answered, ::Yes Ratchet?::

 

::I need you to tell Hot Rod or Bulkhead to visit me at the med bay. They needed their physicals done yesterday. Thanks to all the things going on I didn’t have enough time to do it sooner::

 

::On it, doc:: ‘Bee spoke out of habit.

 

And Ratchet’s predicable response, ::Don’t call me doc!::

 

The Camaro chuckled.

 

“What’s so funny?” Hot Rod asked with that frown still on his features.

 

“It’s Ratchet. He wants either you or Bulk’ to go to his med bay and finally get a check-up.”

 

Bulk’ shuddered. “Do we have to? I don’t like getting looked at. Med-bot servos are always so cold.”

 

“We can all go together if that can make you feel better,” Charlie suggested. “I don’t always love going to the hospital either, but there’s nothing to be afraid about. Ratchet just wants to make sure you’re functioning alright.”

 

‘Bee nodded eagerly. “Yeah, Charlie’s parental unit is a nurse. She knows what she’s talking about. Plus, Charlie’s a great mechanic so you should listen to her.”

 

“Whatever,” Hot Rod vented, pushing ‘Bee and Bulk’ to the side. “The sooner we go visit the doc-bot, the sooner we can do something fun.”

 

Bulkhead still appeared unsure and glanced at everyone. “You promise you’ll be nearby while I let Ratchet look at me?”

 

“We will.” ‘Bee said sincerely.

 

“We can even grab you an Energon Goodie from the mess hall for you to have as a treat afterwards,” Charlie offered.

 

The green snowplow smiled slightly at the suggestion.

 

Bumblebee’s Spark trilled happily. He felt so proud his human friend.

 

“I’ll go first,” Rod stepped in, regaining the others attention on himself. “That way Bulk’ won’t feel too strutless after he sees me do it.”

 

‘Bee looked back at Hot Rod. “Uh, that’s nice of you to offer to do that, Hot Rod.”

 

“Let’s just get moving already,” the alien sports car said succinctly. He was the first to move and the others soon followed him. The three mecha reverted to their alt-modes and swiftly drove to Ratchet’s with Charlie inside ‘Bee. They quickly arrived in a short minute and went back to their bi-pedal forms after the human climbed out of the Camaro.

 

Hot Rod quietly watched ‘Bee turn back into a robot with a itemizing stare.

 

“Something wrong?” Bumblebee tilted his helm.

 

The Cybertronian speedster turned away, saying nothing.

 

Bulkhead’s entire frame shook with worry as he stood near the med bay doors.

 

Charlie tentatively patted Bulk’s leg in comfort. “It’ll be fine. Ratchet’s a harsh dude sometimes but I think he’s a lot nicer than he lets on.”

 

Right after she said that the med bay doors swung open and Brawn ran out of there while a wrench flew towards his helm.

 

“He’s a madmech!” The Land Rover shouted at the younger ‘bots and teenaged girl.  

 

“Yeah, he seems like a very laidback mech,” Hot Rod said sarcastically while he rolled his optics at Charlie.

 

‘Bee noticed the mechanic frowning at the taller mech.

 

“Get back here, ya aft!” Ratchet shouted at the retreating Brawn. He stepped out into the med bay’s opening and growled, “You need your anti-virus coding downloaded into your system like everybot else.”

 

“Good afternoon to you too, Ratchet.” ‘Bee waved to the medic.

 

The red and white ambulance acknowledged the Camaro with an ex-vent while he rubbed his optics. “Hello Bumblebee. It pleases me to see a mech who _isn’t_ afraid of getting examined or having a software update.”

 

“Right, software updates.” ‘Bee forced a smile. “Those are always fun.”

 

Ratchet narrowed his optics. “For a Calvary Scout you’re lousy at lying.”

 

Bumblebee winced. “It’s easy to lie to some dumb ‘cons but I just can’t around my friends.”  

 

That comment made Ratchet raise an optical ridge. “Perhaps you do need to get your systems checked if you consider an old rust bucket like me a friend,” he said in a self-deprecating remark.

 

‘Bee rolled his optics, playfully. “Ten million years old isn’t too old.”

 

The black and yellow Camaro saw Charlie presumably mouth the words ‘ten million’ in shock.

 

Bulkhead’s optics widened in understanding. “Oh, that’s why he’s so grumpy all the time. It’s ‘cause he’s really old-Ow!” He flinched from the hard slap on the back of his helm.

 

“I may be older than you younger models, but my audials function just fine!” Ratchet divulged while pulling his arm away. He then leaned over to properly inspect the newcomers.

 

 “Great job taking care of yourselves.” Ratchet derisively praised at the dents and scratches littered around both frames. “I mean it’s not like you both need physicals done or anything.”

 

 _I’m not sure hitting the future patient helps much_ , ‘Bee thought but wisely kept to himself.

 

“Sorry ‘bout that Ratch’.” Hot Rod responded.

 

Charlie and ‘Bee winced after they saw Ratchet’s perpetual frown stretch further down. That was never a good sign.

 

 “I’ll start with you first, Hot Air.”

 

“That’s Hot _Rod_.”

 

“I know what I said,” Ratchet said while still moving forward.

 

“Looks like you’ll be last after all, Bulk’.” ‘Bee said.

 

The giant green mech vented, his shoulder struts sagging less than before. “I just hope I didn’t make him too mad with that old joke I did.”

 

“Something tells me he hates being called Ratch’ more than jokes about his age,” Charlie pointed out.

 

“You’re right about that,” Bumblebee said in agreement. “Not even Optimus calls him anything but Ratchet and they’re really close friends.”  

 

“So what should we do while we wait for Rod’s exam?” Bulkhead asked after a brief nano-klik of silence.

 

“Hey ‘Bee why not tell us your first mission in Unit Prime?” Charlie recommended.

 

“Oh, tell us please. I wanna hear that too.” Bulk’ nodded with excitement.

 

“Well~” One part of him wanted to wait for Hot Rod but the earnest expressions that Charlie and Bulk were both exhibiting made him cave in. “All right. Okay, so this was kinda a big deal because not only was it my first mission but Optimus was also testing me.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Because… I never told you this Charlie but the truth is… I lied about my age when I signed up to train for the Resistance.”

 

“What?” Charlie gaped.

 

“It’s totally true. I was two million years too young to officially start training but I wanted to be a part of the fight so badly that I just pretended that the reason I was small was because I had a small car frame.”

 

Bulkhead chuckled. “It fooled me and Hot Rod at first until we found out he hadn’t finished up his final upgrades.”

 

Bumblebee huffed. “And even after I got them I’m still smaller than everybot else.”

 

“You’re taller than me if that makes a difference,” Charlie jokingly comforted him.

 

“Thanks,” ‘Bee said with faux-sarcasm. “Anyway, since I didn’t want anybot think I was weak I studied harder, trained harder and, I’m not trying to brag or anything, but I was able to pass boot camp with flying colors because of all my hard work. I impressed the teachers so much that they recommended to be assigned to Unit Prime because they had a Calvary Scout position that needed filling. That’s when everything nearly went downhill because the moment I arrived at their base Ratchet and Ironhide figured out quickly that I was still in my second upgrades and not my final one.”

 

Charlie and Bulkhead listened intently and waited for ‘Bee to continue. Both of them even pulled up crates near the med bay so they could get comfortable and pay closer attention to the story.

 

“I was _this_ close,” he put less than an inch of space between his thumb and index digit, “to being dishonorably discharged when suddenly Optimus appeared right on que. He asked what was going on and I explained to him and the other two about how I wanted to make a difference and fight the Decepticons. Ratchet and Ironhide weren’t convinced that I should stay but Optimus told me that I could.”

 

“He did?” Bulkhead gasped.

 

The Camaro nodded while smiling at the memory. “He said that he saw raw potential in me; that if I was able to fool my drill sergeants and still go beyond their expectations then I had a place there with him.”

 

“Whoa,” Charlie smiled in amazement. “That was a cool thing of Optimus Prime to do.”

 

“Uh…” Bulk’ opened his large jaw but could not speak. He merely pointed at Charlie then shot a look at ‘Bee for help to comprehend what she just said.

 

‘Bee’s optics crinkled with mirth. “I’ll explain Earth linguistics later. Anyway, I was put on probationary for a few stellar-cycles because the older ‘bots didn’t want me to do real fighting until they thought I could handle it. I got pretty acquainted with the members of Unit Prime, and befriended most of them before I was given my first mission.”

 

“What was the mission?” Charlie asked impatiently but not coming off as crass.

 

“Tell us!” Bulkhead requested with the exact same zeal.

 

‘Bee laughed, “I’m getting there. Okay so it was in the middle of the dark-cycle and I was alerted by Jazz, who was still called J-722 back then, that I had assignment. I was taked to go help Wheeljack collect unguarded energy conductors in a sector near Iacon.* It was supposed to be a simple resupply run, but just as the two of us were reaching the bridge directly back to base a Decepticon welcoming crew led by Starscream blocked us.”

 

“Starscream?!” Bulkhead yelped and almost fell off his seat.

 

“Who’s Starscream?” Charlie asked.

 

“Only the leader of the ‘con Air Fleet and Megatron’s Number Two,” the green snowplow answered anxiously.

 

“Is his a good fighter like Shatter and Dropkick?” Bumblebee heard fear laced in Charlie’s tone.

 

‘Bee’s optics turned downcast and he hesitantly admitted, “He’s better than both of them.”

 

The Camaro saw how pale Charlie’s face became.

 

“I don’t think you’ll have to worry about meeting him anytime soon,” ‘Bee strived to comfort the mechanic.

 

“Besides, his shooting accuracy is pretty much fifty-fifty anyway,” he teased in order to bring levity. “I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t.”

 

His Spark glowed when he saw the slightest hint of a smile on Charlie.  

 

“He shot at you?” Bulkhead gulped.

 

“Yep” ‘Bee revealed with a helm shake. “Fighting him and his ‘jets wasn’t too bad at first though, with Wheeljack’s armored platting blocking most of their laser blast and me shooting with my blaster until the purple one, Skywarp, aimed a flamethrower at us.”

 

Bulkhead screeched while placing his servos on his helm. “Skywarp? The Tetrajet of Teleportation, Skywarp!?”

 

‘Bee vented, getting slightly annoyed at his friend’s interruptions. “Yes. The very same one, even though he didn’t bother using his teleporting powers against Wheeljack and I for some reason. My guess is that he didn’t know who we were at the time. Moving right along, Wheeljack cut through the fire thanks to some bladed fans he installed and blew the fire away.

 

“Skywarp and Thundercracker-”

  

“Thundercracker!” Bulkhead shouted again. “He’s a…. oh wait, I have no idea who that is.”

 

“Bulkhead.” ‘Bee and Charlie’s voices overlapped exasperatedly at the green mech.

 

“Sorry,” Bulk’ smiled sheepishly.

 

“Where was I? Oh right, Skywarp and Thundercracker gave Wheeljack and me a harder time since they chased after us in the air. I couldn’t let them hit Wheeljack since he was carrying very combustible rods. The ‘jets tried to keep us from crossing the bridge by shooting a wide enough hole in it that made it impossible to drive around. Thankfully Wheeljack and I barely made the jump, but my rear axle got dented for my troubles. ‘Couldn’t drive for a whole orn or two Earth-weeks. Optimus praised me for my bravery during the mission and promoted me to Calvary Scout since the one before me had just got promoted to a lieutenant rank.

 

“Long story short: that was my first ever mission in Unit Prime. You’re free to clap now,” the yellow ‘bot said jokingly

 

Bulkhead and Charlie snorted and clapped respectfully. The human shook her head in awe of the Camaro.

 

‘Bee bowed. “Thank you, thank you. I’ll be here all week.”

 

Suddenly the med bay doors opened. Hot Rod walked out followed by Ratchet.

 

“Just keep lubricating the seams every other deca-cycle so your T-Cog won’t ware out,” the red and white mech advised Hot Rod.

 

“No problem, Hatch-” the medic promptly slammed a servo on top of Hot Rod’s helm.

 

“OW!” Hot Rod winced while he blindly searched for any dents.

 

“Call me that nickname one more time,” Ratchet threatened. “I dare you.”

 

“Okay, so no old jokes or nicknames,” Bulkhead listed while typing it out onto a datapad. “Got it.”

 

Ratchet rolled his optics at the younger mech’s actions.  

 

::Also, don’t ask about his stance on religion:: Bumblebee warned through their commlink. ::Trust me, it’s better not to ask::

 

::Okay:: Bulkhead nodded while quietly adding that to the list.

 

“So I hope you all didn’t miss me too much while I was away,” Hot Rod said teasingly.

 

“We’re fine,” Bulkhead stated. “Bumblebee told us his first mission while in Unit Prime.”

 

“What?” Hot Rod’s jaw dropped. “And I missed it!”

 

‘Bee drew back in discomfort. “I’m sorry, Rod. Bulk’ and Charlie just wanted to hear it so badly I couldn’t say no.”

 

“Of course not,” Rod’s optics landed squarely on the other two with his gaze more heated towards Charlie in particular.

 

“I’ll tell it to you another time,” ‘Bee tried to soothe.  

 

“Bulkhead,” Ratchet barked. The green snowplow jumped in surprise and nearly dropped his datapad. That caused the chief medical officer to roll his optics yet again.

 

“Get in here,” the ambulance jerked his head towards the med bay’s interior. “You’re next.”

 

Bulkhead gulped with worry as his frame shook.

 

“It’ll be fine, big guy.” ‘Bee patted Bulk’s arm encouragingly. “It’s just a quick analysis.”

 

“If you’re good enough maybe Ratchet will give you a treat,” Charlie hinted at the medic.

 

Ratchet huffed as he crossed his arms. “Sure and while I’m at it, I’ll even throw in a balloon.”

 

“I like balloons,” Bulk’ brightened. “Oh, and can I have glazed wheel-nuts for my treat and maybe-”

 

“Don’t press your luck, kid.” Ratchet urged with a final sounding tone.

 

“Oh. Sorry.”

 

“You come along too,” Ratchet pointed to Charlie. “There’s something I need you for.”

 

“O…kay?” The human glanced over at ‘Bee who shrugged his own shoulders.

 

‘Bee watched Charlie follow Ratchet and Bulkhead and the doors closed behind them. As soon as he and Hot Rod were alone he turned his attention towards his remaining friend.

 

“So, do you want to hear about my first mission now while we wait?”

 

Hot Rod was uncharacteristically quiet for a nano-klik before his answered, “Think I’ll pass.”

* * *

 

To say that Charlie was impressed with the Autobots’ med bay was a bit of an understatement. The walls were fitted with glass windows with jalousie blinds to let in natural light. Below the windows were counters with various tools and medicine in Cybertronian text that Charlie still didn’t understand completely. A door was at the end of the building that presumably led to an office. In front of the door were eight berths, four on each side opposite of each other. They were far more studier looking and had wider mattresses as opposed to the singular one Ratchet had used before the renovations. The place had come a long way from being an open aired tent.

 

“Alright, Bulkhead.” Ratchet called out. “Go over to the nearest berth and lie down. Be sure to watch where you-”

 

CRUNCH!

 

“Step.”

 

“Whoops,” the Cybertronian snowblow lifted a pede, which had smashed pieces of a data disk underneath.

 

“Bulkhead, I needed that!”** Ratchet exclaimed with clenched fists.

 

“Sorry.”

 

“You better be if that had anything important on it,” the ambulance grumbled while he picked the broken fragments with his needle fingers.

 

 _Ratchet is acting a lot more pissed off than normal_ , Charlie thought while observing the sight. Come to think of it, he appeared just as tired as he sounded.

 

Charlie didn’t think it was possible for a metallic alien to get bags under their eyes but Ratchet was proof that they could. He even moved slightly slower than his usual gait. The mechanic wondered if there was anyone Ratchet went to if he ever felt bad. Even her mom knew when to eat and sleep in spite of how many hours she worked at the hospital. Or perhaps it  _was_ because she had seen firsthand of people who got hurt or sick from overworking themselves. No wonder her mother got upset whenever Charlie pulled an all nighter twice or more in a row.

 

Charlie made a mental note to apologize to her mother in the near future.

 

“Lucky for you, this slug was a blank.” Ratchet said to Bulkhead. “Still a waste of perfectly good equipment. No matter, just lie down so I can scan you for any abnormalities.”

 

Charlie found a box small enough for her to sit and silently watched Ratchet get to work.

 

Bulkhead nodded and did what he was told. Ratchet went over to the nearest counter and pulled out a flat paddle-shaped device. He pressed a button to activate the tool and ran it over Bulkhead’s plating. Ratchet carried a look of deep concentration while watching the scanner and nodding in approval at the slow repetitious beeps it made. The sounds then duplicated faster when it neared Bulkhead’s midsection.

 

“Is there something wrong, Ratchet?” The green mech frowned as best as he could with his enlarged underbite. 

 

Ratchet hummed. “Bulkhead, I need you to lift your hood up for me. My scanner picked up something it doesn’t like inside you.”

 

“I can’t.” Bulk’ started to panic. “I think it might be jammed!”

 

“Ease off your throttle, kid.” Ratchet lowered his free servo near Bulkhead’s chromed grill. “I just need to trip the latch. Not sure my needle digits are strong enough-Charlie,” Ratchet turned his attention towards her. “Can you get me a-”

 

“Here’s a screwdriver,” Charlie grabbed one off the nearest shelf she could reach and handed it to Ratchet. “You should be able to use it as a lever to tug open Bulkhead’s hood.”

 

Ratchet merely raised an optical ridge at her and did exactly as she recommended. In no time flat, the hood snapped open.

 

“Told ya,” Charlie said with a proud beam.

 

Ratchet let out a bemused snort before he resumed his inspection. “Ah, here’s the problem. One of your bolts that’s holding your engine bracket in place is loose.”

 

“How bad is that?” Bulk’ asked worriedly.

 

“If you came to me a lot latter than today the bracket would break off later on could lead to your engine falling out.”

 

Bulkhead whimpered.

 

“Relax, I just need to tighten the bolt back in place and you’ll live,” Ratchet glanced at Charlie again. “Charlie, get me a ½ wrench in my tool box by the door.”

 

“No,” Charlie disagreed. “This bolt’s a Grade 5, you need a 7/16 or a 3/8 to tighten it.”

 

“Kid, I’ve been doing this for ten million years. I think I have a good idea what I’m doing. Now be useful and get me a ½.”

 

Charlie was momentarily stunned by the mech’s harsh words but went over to the toolkit as he requested. She opened it up and found dozens of wrenches and easily found the one Ratchet wanted. Charlie also spotted the one she knew he really needed. Maybe he wasn’t thinking straight due to lack of recharge or something else, but Charlie knew that her years working with her dad weren’t going to fail her this time. She slammed the box shut and carried the 7/16 over. Thankfully it was not too heavy despite it being alien robot sized and gave it to Ratchet.

 

The medic vented when he saw the tool. “Kid, I said-”

 

“Just trust me,” Charlie interrupted. “I know what I’m doing. Please, Ratchet?”

 

Ratchet peered at her with a calculating stare before he shrugged and used the wrench. It slid over the bolt without any issues and with a short twist tightened it.

 

“You’re welcome.” Charlie puffed out before she started to walk away.

 

“Charlie,” Ratchet called, his tone softer.

 

The eighteen year old stopped her tracks and turned around. She chose to listen but remained dubious of his intentions.

 

“The truth is I know I needed a 7/16 like you said.”

 

Charlie narrowed her eyes while she tried to understand the meaning behind his motivation. “Were you testing me or something?”

 

“As of a matter of fact, I was.” Ratchet admitted to the human before he resumed inspecting Bulkhead’s interior. “Back on Cybertron, I had half a dozen or so mecha and femmes assisting me during operations, examinations or help the patients with minimal illnesses so I could focus on the more serious afflictions. When the war became far-reaching, I had to say goodbye to them all so they could help other Autobots far across the planet and the galaxy. Getting reassigned to Unit Prime made things less difficult since I just needed to look after nine ‘bots, excluding myself.”

 

“Because doctors are lousy patients, right?” Charlie said sharply.

 

Ratchet brushed her off. “As you can already see, our numbers are growing and I bet in a matter of months the team will have double the numbers it currently has now.” He cleaned out the lock that held Bulkhead’s hood before he closed it. “I’m getting old and I can’t just rely on my own servos. I need an extra pair and considering that I don’t have the tools to add extra limbs on me,” Charlie cracked a grin at that, “I need a new assistant that already knows a thing or two about automobiles and has strong, steady _hands_.”

 

Charlie let what he said sink in. “Are you offering me a job?”

 

Ratchet frowned back at her and did not reset his optics. “You practically here all the time. Might as well give you something to do,” he pretended to excuse.

 

The mechanic did not hold back her grin that time and let it grow wider. “You’re offering me a job,” she confirmed in a delighted voice.

 

“I won’t be nice to you,” Ratchet cautioned with a raised digit. “And because I know ‘Bee has been teaching our terminology, I expect you to study more about Cybertronian anatomy when you’re home so I don’t have to just explain everything to you while you’re here.” He frowned when he noticed her quizzical stare. “This is all still in the planning period-I haven’t asked Optimus yet for his approval.”

 

“If he did say yes I’d be honored,” she paused. “I am looking for a job right now and what you’re offering is like a dream come true.”

 

“But,” Ratchet added knowingly.

 

Charlie frowned and stared at an oil stain on the ground. “I need a _paying_ job so I can go to college. Even if it’s too late for me this semester, I need to start raising money anyway… and.”

 

“And?” Ratchet repeated.

 

 _Ever fought in battle?_ Hot Rod’s question rang through her mind, which then led to an older memory she forced to suppress.  

 

“I have a lot on my mind right now.” Charlie said, marginally honest.

 

“If you reconsider, the offer still stands.” Ratchet told her. He glanced over at Bulkhead and ordered, “Get off the berth and transform for me.”

 

“Okay.” Bulkhead pushed himself off the slab and quickly shifted into his snowplow form. Ratchet’s arm cover flipped open, which released three diagnostic cables. “Gonna need you to open your hood again, kid. Have a few more tests before we’re done here.”

 

For another twenty minutes Ratchet probed around Bulkhead, asking him to turn his engine on, if anything hurt when he turned back and forth into a car or robot, and cleaned out any excess dirt or other debris that become stuck in the plating. When the medic gave Bulkhead one last quick inspection he cleared him.

 

“Just wash your plating regularly, and keep an optic on your rear tires. They appear a bit worn. Other than that, you’re perfectly fine.”

 

Bulkhead vented in relief. “Thank Primus.”

 

Ratchet’s optic twitched. “Keep that talk in the temple. There’s no need for _that_ here.”

 

The green mech winced. “Sorry,” he apologized.

 

“Well, since you asked forgiveness,” Ratchet trailed off before pulling a small blue glittery stick from his Subspace. He tossed it over to Bulkhead who caught it without too many issues.

 

“An Energon Goodie. Thanks doc-”

 

Ratchet stared pointedly at the bigger mech.

 

“-ter Ratchet,” Bulkhead hastily finished with a uneasy chuckle.

 

“Good save,” Charlie complimented while Ratchet rolled his optics.

 

“You two just get out of here. I need to file a report for both exams and I prefer doing it while everything is quiet.”

 

“Bye Ratchet,” Charlie waved to the medic as Bulkhead happily suckled on his treat.

 

The two left the med bay and were greeted by the bright sunlight and Hot Rod leaning against a solar power-gathering tower. Bumblebee was nowhere to be seen.

 

“Where’s ‘Bee?” Charlie glanced around to try and find her black and yellow friend.

 

“He went to go find Brawn for Ratchet, something about him trying to hide on top of a roof or something.” Hot Rod said offhandedly.

 

“Is getting anti-virus software downloaded into your system that painful?” Charlie asked while placing her hands on her hips.

 

“Sometimes your system needs to reboot and that’s not always fun,” Bulkhead explained with a small shudder.

 

Hot Rod yawned before he began to strenuously stretch. “You just get disoriented for a few kliks afterwards, but besides that it’s not the worst. Believe me, there are a lot of worse things than getting a restart in your systems.”

 

“Like what?” Charlie titled her head.

 

“Just stuff,” Hot Rod said, his tone decisive.

 

Charlie arched an eyebrow but chose not to press the subject.

 

Bumblebee soon arrived at the scene as a Camaro before turning back into his robot mode.

 

“Sorry about that,” ‘Bee said after saying hi to everyone. “Brawn was just being very uncooperative. I had to ask Ironhide and Optimus to talk some sense into him and let Ratchet finish his check up.”

 

“Can’t say I blame ‘im.” Charlie heard Hot Rod mutter.

 

“How did your health exam go, Bulk’?” Bumblebee asked.

 

“Ratchet said I’m okay. Just need to keep an optic on my tires.”

 

‘Bee nodded approvingly. “That’s good.” He tilted his helm to look at Charlie. “What did Ratchet need you for? Was it to help with Bulk’s check up?”

 

“Yeah, it was.” Bulkhead cut in before Charlie got a word in edgewise. “Only it wasn’t, uh, Ratchet was testing Charlie by pretending he didn’t know which tool to use and let her pick and revealed he wants her to work for him.”

 

“Really?” The Camaro became amped. “That’s the best news I’ve heard all day! Charlie,” he kneeled in front of the mechanic, “you can have a reason to be here, like, all the time now.”

 

All three mecha gazed upon Charlie with contrary expressions. Bumblebee had a very ecstatic look on his faceplate, optics brightened to their highest setting. Bulkhead appeared timid, unsure if he should be as happy as ‘Bee. While Hot Rod’s expression was deadpanned.

 

Charlie felt herself get hot from their stares. “Um, I need to go use the bathroom.” She hated herself for the weak excuse but needed space.

 

Thankfully, ‘Bee trusted her enough to accept her chance to escape.

* * *

 

The public restroom that the Autobots refurbished was by far the cleanest one Charlie had ever been in. It probably helped that not many humans stayed at the base and Wheeljack invented flat, circular drones that wiped the floors clean.***

 

Charlie dunked her head into the sink for a third time. She wasn’t sure why she needed to do it but perhaps it was the combined sweat and fatigue from the heat that compelled her. The mechanic decided she had spent enough time inside the bathroom and exited out the main door.

 

“-was that supposed to be his Earth vehicle form?” Hot Rod stated impertinently.

 

Charlie ceased her actions of opening the door and instead left it wide enough for her eye to see. Near the restrooms, Hot Rod and Bulkhead were talking. Neither of the mecha noticed her eavesdropping and weren’t probably aware of their choice of surroundings to chat.

 

Bulkhead appeared calm in contrast to Hot Rod who looked like he really needed to chill but refused to. 

 

Bulkhead scratched the back of his helm. “I thought it looked neat. The stripes are a nice touch.”

 

“The body looks way too stretched out and that grill pokes out his chest plate almost as much as Prowl’s does,” the red and orange speedster criticized.

 

“You’re just trying to find things to complain about.” Bulkhead summed up perfectly. “Ever since we got here you’ve just been rude and mean, especially to the humans. What have they ever done to you?”

 

“You saw the way _Bumble_ bee reacted to seeing that… female compared to how he greeted us. It just seemed so unnatural.” Hot Red forced out.

 

“Don’t tell me you’re jealous.”

 

“Pfft.” Hot Rod stuck his glossa out. “I’m not envious of some human just because B’ paid more attention to her than us,” he specifically insisted. “His best friends. We should come first before anybot else.”

 

“Well, to be fair she and her clan were almost mauled by a bear-mech even with Brawn there fighting it earlier. ‘Bee musta been beyond worried for her.”

 

“He didn’t ask us if we were okay.”

 

“We can take care of ourselves.” Bulkhead pointed out.

 

“Heh, you got that right. Obviously she can’t. It’s no wonder ‘Bee dotes on her. You remember how she dodged my question the other dark-cycle? Bet she’s never been in a real fight. Probably get too scared with all the giant ‘cons.” Hot Rod waved his arms over his helm. “Ooooh, how terrifying.”

 

Charlie felt a lump in her throat as the memory she succeeded in shoving away earlier resurface.

* * *

 

 Location: McKinnon Air Force Base, CA. Date: August 20, 1987

 

“We need to get out of here.” The Charlie from the past told Bumblebee and Memo after she spotted Sector 7 coming back to recapture the Volkswagen. She added that they needed a place to hide, away from all the fighting and death.

 

The alien robot’s eyes looked to the ground for a second before he stared straight at Charlie again. He produced a hologram of the same tower the evil robots were planning to use as a satellite dish to call an army to Earth. An army that would destroy them all.

 

“…’Bee stop, they will kill you,” was Charlie’s immediate response. She lost her friend once that night, she didn’t want to see it happen again and not be able to save him the next time.

 

They were better off hiding.

 

They were better off acting like cowards.

* * *

 

“Stop saying stuff like that,” Bulkhead’s words snapped Charlie out of her ruminations. She shook her head in an attempt to get rid of the negative thoughts.

 

“I may not know Charlie that well but she seems really nice and if ‘Bee likes her, we should give her a chance.”

 

“Bulk’, ever since we got here it’s been ‘Charlie this’ and ‘Charlie that’ with B’. If he forgot about us before, what’s to say he won’t again?” Hot Rod said, distraught.

 

The green snowplow frowned. “That’s not gonna happen.”

 

“You don’t know that. I can’t- _we_ can’t lose another ‘bot. We’ve had to say goodbye to too many already; Hauler, Glasspit, Clipper, Sideburn…" Hot Rod trailed off, venting heavily before he continued, “So many mecha and femmes. I don’t want find out one cycle that we need to add B’ to that list. I don’t want to lose another friend.”

 

Bulkhead continued to frown and placed a three-claw servo on Hot Rod’s shoulder. “You only will if you keep behaving the way you do.”

 

“My behavior? What am I doing that’s so wrong?” Hot Rod demanded in a incognizant manner.

 

“I think you need to ask that question to Charlie,” Bulk’ replied after he let out a long vent.

 

The alien sports car huffed in irritation. “Why do I need to talk to her? Bulk’? Bulkhead! Don’t walk away from me.” Hot Rod was forced to chase after his bigger friend before he was left behind.

 

After a minute passed, Charlie slunk out of the bathroom and walked aimlessly. The only thing she wanted at that moment was to be alone.

* * *

 

“Damn.” Ironhide cursed. “Why does Brawn have ta be so unreasonable? It’s just a simple anti-virus download. Nothin’ ta discharge at.” ****

 

“Exclaims the mech who has reservations about getting on a med slab in general?” Optimus replied, his optical ridge raised just a centimeter.

 

The Dodge Caravan sputtered. “You try an’ lay yer spinal strut on one of ‘em slabs. Might as well lie on the floor.”

 

“Would you like me to speak with Ratchet about the issue?  

 

 “And face the Hatchet’s temper? As the human saying goes, fat chance,” Ironhide said with repulse in his tone.

 

The two mecha were walking along the chain-link fenced wall that surrounded the drive-in. Ironhide wanted to tear the fence down and replace it with a standard Cybertronian-based fortification they used in the past but the Autobots were still awaiting clearance from the land’s capital. The Security Lieutenant fumed for a full week over the ridiculousness of the situation but Optimus told him that had to follow the humans’ rules to keep relations on both sides positive. Wheeljack said to them that he was trying to work on some cloaking technology to obscure themselves but reluctantly admitted to having hit a roadblock a few days ago.

 

“Speaking of which, did you notice at the briefing this morning Ratchet looked a little off? That he ain’t his…” Ironhide receded on purpose.

 

“Usual self?” Optimus finished for the red van.

 

“By his usual self ya mean cranky but cooperative and responsive, yes. Fer some reason, he just was actin’ cranky with a whole lot of other problems, like he didn’ recharge last night or somethin’.”

 

“Perhaps I should speak to Ratchet on our behalf after all,” Optimus mused. “I’ll try to talk to him after refueling.”

 

“Is it your turn to get a cube to the doc?” Ironhide asked.

 

“It should be Arcee’s, but I shall take her place instead,” the red and blue truck faltered when he noticed a familiar shape up ahead.

 

Ironhide followed his line of sight and was equally surprised.

 

Sitting on a large rock near the fence’s edge was Charlie Watson. While seeing her observe nature around and inside the base was not uncommon, witnessing her without Bumblebee by her side was far stranger to them.

 

 Both mecha exchanged silent glances before they approached the lone human.

 

At first Ironhide thought Charlie didn’t noticed them because she continued to stare through the fence but then said, “Hi Optimus Prime. Hey Ironhide. Did you know if you sit at this spot you can get a clear view of Brighton from here? It’s small but it’s still nice.”

 

Ironhide chuckled, “’Small but nice’. That’s what I’ve come to sum up this planet in a wheel-nut shell.”

 

“And the sunsets are lovely here,” Optimus added. “Even if we are currently positioned in the opposite direction.”

 

Charlie hummed. “At least you guys like it here.”

 

“Are you having a disagreement with Bumblebee again?” Optimus kneeled and expressed genuine concern.

 

“What? No.” The human shook her head. “’Bee and I are fine it’s just…” she sighed. “It’s one of his friends that I’m having issues with.”

 

“It’s Hot Rod, ain’t it?” Ironhide bluntly addressed.

 

Charlie whipped her head at the former fire-mech. “How did you..?

 

“Kid, it was pretty damn obvious since arriving here last night Roddy is jumpier than a petro-rabbit. And considering his history it makes sense that ‘e might have problems adjustin’, especially if he’s found out how close you and ‘Bee are.”

 

Charlie said nothing and diverted her attention to the ground.

 

“He ain’t just green with envy though, is he?” Ironhide arched a ridge.

 

“He,” Charlie hesitated to talk at first until Optimus gave her an encouraging nod. “He said something about me earlier that struck a nerve.”

 

“What would that be?” Optimus asked. “He did not call your race anything disrespectful, did he?”

 

Charlie listlessly shrugged her shoulders. “Kinda, but it was directly towards me. He wondered if I was a soldier or not.”

 

Ironhide gaped incredulously at the very notion. “Well a’ course you ain’t, but yer still one of the bravest-”

 

“I’m not!” Charlie shouted. “I’m a big fat coward! Anytime I was a kid and even back in high school I’d wimp out around bullies. I hate getting confrontational, I hate war and-and when ‘Bee wanted to stop Shatter and Dropkick all those months ago my first reaction was to just run away. He had to convince me that stopping them was the right thing to do and if I did somehow convinced him not to, well, we wouldn’t be talking to each other right now. You and all the other Autobots probably thought I was there with ‘Bee, but honestly, I just kept avoiding the fight while trying to pull out some stupid battery. Even when I was kidnapped by Steeljaw, I was so scared and I couldn’t fight back.”

 

Charlie’s eyes sprung a leak and she tried furiously to wipe them away with her shirt. “Hot Rod was right about me. I’m not soldier. Never have. Never will be.”

 

“Charlie Watson,” Optimus rumbled softly, gaining the human female’s attention. “Admitting you are afraid is a great sign of courage. Many Cybertronians that I have known were scared to make themselves appear vulnerable even for a moment.”

 

“You never get scared.” Charlie countered innocently. “You’re fearless.”

 

Ironhide smirked as he watched his old friend laugh briefly before he replaced his stoic mask again.

 

“Only a fool is fearless. Being brave doesn’t mean going into a battle blindly or looking for a fight. After all, there is a thin line between being a hero and being a memory,” Optimus made sure to look pointedly at Ironhide as he said that sentence. The old veteran sent out teasing waves through his EM field in response.*****

 

“I was frightened the night when I allowed Bumblebee to go rescue you from Steeljaw,” Optimus revealed. “I feared for both of your lives.”

 

During Optimus’ whole speech Charlie’s face altered through various expressions. Starting from dejected to uncertain and finally optimistic. The present cast she had on her face was a mixture of sheepish amusement. “Well, you know, I think Steeljaw and his goons were more scared of you.”

 

Optimus’ warm laughter and field soothed both the human and smaller mech. “Yes, but remember this Charlie Watson; there is nothing wrong with being afraid but you should not let that fear change you.”

 

“Besides, ‘Bee already told us how scared you were but still went and helped him out anyway.” Ironhide confided to the young human, gaining a surprised look from her. “Not ta mock ya or anythin’. He was really proud and pleased at how helpful you were… even if he was upset that you did some pretty dangerous stunts like jumping over a barb-wired fence and then diving inta water just to check if he was okay,” he added with a lazy smile.

 

Charlie frowned but her eyes were alight with exuberance. “He tried to put me in a dumpster before the battle. But it got blown up by a rocket so I decided to help out since I feared anywhere else I’d try to hide in would explode. I knew what I was doing was dangerous but I knew I had to do something so more Decepticons wouldn’t arrive on Earth.”

 

“Indeed,” Optimus stated. “We can’t ignore the danger, we must conquer it,” he declared with a clenched fist.

 

Ironhide inwardly rolled his optics at his friend’s theatrics. Optimus always loved to ‘perform’ for a crowd.

 

“Are you no longer feeling conflicted, Charlie?” The Freightliner asked a nano-klik later.

 

“I think so,” Charlie confessed slowly. “Thanks for the pep talk Ironhide and Optimus Prime.”

 

“Charlie,” the red and blue mech whispered. “If I am allowed to address you informally there’s no need for you to add Prime after my designation. You may call me Optimus if you prefer.”

 

The human was startled by the request but smiled a bit wider. “Okay, Optimus.”

 

Ironhide reset his vocalizer. “Now, getting back to yer issue with Roddy.”

 

“I’ll talk with ‘Bee about it.” Charlie said with a hint of reluctance.

 

“Yeah, you should. But there is one more thing you need to do and that’s talk one on one with Hot Rod.”

 

Charlie frowned nervously. “I don’t think he’ll want to.”

 

“You need to understand why he’s actin’ the way he is and work it out even if he’s bein’ stubborn. We all need ta work ta’gether, humans and Autobots.” Ironhide reasoned.

 

“You mentioned earlier about knowing Hot Rod’s past right?”

 

“I know him a lot more than he does,” Ironhide said cryptically. “There are two ‘bots in particular that shaped his history and I knew ‘em well.”

 

Charlie stood up on her feet. “Who were they?”

 

Ironhide’s dermas changed from straight line into a frown as he recounted an old memory that he had wished to not review again.

* * *

 

Hot Rod yelled as he thrust his right servo forward, clenched in a tight fist. His digits barely grazed the stonewall before he pulled his arm back. He repeated the motion with his other arm and went back and forth for a few kliks until he purposely fell. The mech prevented himself from crashing to the ground by landing on his servos and held his frame upside down. Next he performed a flawlessly back flip and shifted into his alt-mode midway. He drove around for a bit, pretending that he was dodging aerial blasts from imaginary seekers, and then reverted back into his bi-pedal form.

 

Hot Rod had been practicing his exercises ever since his… misunderstanding with Bulk’. He wondered where the green ex-Wrecker went but then thought he probably needed to blow off some steam like him. The red and orange speedster ex-vented heavily while facing his ever-growing shadow on the wall.

 

 _So far you’re the only constant in my life that hasn’t left me,_ Hot Rod thought bitterly as he waited for his engine to cool down.

 

“Hot Rod?” B-1… _Bumble_ bee’s voice called out. The First Class Private still wasn’t used to the new designation. He honestly had no idea if he ever would.

 

“Over here,” Hot Rod responded and emitted his EMF to aid the smaller mech’s progress.

 

The black and yellow ‘bot arrived nano-kliks later. He appeared concerned, which made Hot Rod’s Spark pulse happily to know that his friend truly worried about him.

 

“Have you seen Charlie? She left twenty minutes ago and nobot has heard from her sense.”

 

In no time flat, Hot Rod’s Spark sunk to the bottom of its chamber. The flame colored mech hummed disinterestedly. “I don’t know. Why not ask one of your _other_ friends? Or are you to busy hanging out with humans for them now too?”

 

B’ reset his optics and moved his helm in confusion. “What are you talking about, Rod?”

 

“Oh, what? Have you been so oblivious that you didn’t notice that you were ditching your best friends for a temporary one?”

 

“Tempoaray-wait, are you talking about Charlie? Since when did I ditch you?”

 

“Since last night,” Hot Rod pressed a button on his arm. “I’m a guardian to the Watsons. I need to stay with them to make sure nothing bad happens to them,” a recording of the Calvary scout played.

 

“Well, you know I-”

 

“I’m not worried about you two. I just would rather we play a game that Charlie will less likely get hurt playing.”

 

Hot Rod gave the yellow mech a stony stare.

 

“Ever since Bulk’ and I got here all you talk about is that human. Everything you do now has to have her involved.”

 

“I’m her guardian,” B’ defended. “It’s my mission to protect her.”

  
  
“Is your mission more important than your friendship with me and Bulk’?”

 

“Now that’s-” the smaller ‘bot started to say when his comm. pinged.

 

“Sorry,” B’ apologized before he answered the call. He stayed silent, but the only signs that proved his was listening were the occasional nods and short hums of acknowledgement.

 

“It was from Ironhide,” the yellow ‘bot explained.

 

“What did he want?”

 

“He just wanted to let me know that…. um.”

 

“Let me guess? He _found_ Char _lie_ ,” Hot Rod pretended to cheer in a singsong tone.

 

B’ narrowed his optics. “Could you please not talk like that?”

 

“Uh, talk like what?”

 

“You know you’re doing it on purpose.”

 

Hot Rod scoffed. “Oh yeah? Well, you still didn’t answer my question. Is an organic, whose lifespan is barely a second compared to ours by the way, more important to you than the vorns we’ve known each other?”

 

Hot Rod watched as B’s optics thinned further until they were slits. His EMF brimmed with aggravation and animosity. Hot Rod’s stance faltered from the sudden change in his friend’s mood, he pretended to brush it off but it wasn’t very convincing.

 

The red and orange mech secretly welcomed the timely arrival of Ironhide. The Weapons Specialist was in his vehicle mode and Charlie sat in the front seat. When he stopped by the two younger mecha he opened his right door, allowing the human to exit right before he shifted back into his root form.

 

“What in the nation of Tarn got you all worked up, ‘Bee?” Ironhide demanded. “The last time you were this worked up was when Charlie got taken by Steeljaw and his goons.”

 

The yellow mech ex-vented. “I… was having a disagreement with Hot Rod here.”

 

“Bumblebee,” Charlie said as she approached the Calvary scout. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

 

“If it’s about how Hot Rod’s been treating you, I already know.” He said reassuringly.  

 

“You do?” Charlie questioned, sounded surprised.

 

“Great you’re really taking her side.” Hot Rod claimed.

 

The black and yellow mech jerked his helm at the taller mech.

 

“Don’t start that Rod,” B’ or Bumblebee said. “I’m tired of the way you’re treating Charlie. To answer your question, she’s my friend too. I know you longer than her but doesn’t mean that she’s not as important as you or Bulk’. I’m allowed to have more than one best friend. Unless they become a…. Charlie, what’s that word you used to describe that history teacher you had in 10thGrade?”

 

“A prick?”

 

“Yeah,” Bumblebee nodded before turning his attention back on Hot Rod. “That’s what you’re acting like right now. A big, rude, condescending prick who I won’t stay friends with if he doesn’t learn to get over himself and put some real effort in being nice.”

 

Hot Rod opened his intake and choked. “You won’t be friends with me anymore?”

 

“If you keep treating my new friends badly,” the smaller mech warned.

 

“No, no I-I can’t lose anyone else. I can’t,” Hot Rod’s fuel pump stuttered and all he could see was static. _I can’t be alone again. I can’t. I can’t!_

 

“Hot Rod,” Charlie’s voice rang out. It was loud enough to snap the red and orange speedster out of his impending systems crash. When the static dematerialized Hot Rod noticed she was right in front of his frame. All three mecha stood silently, none of them were sure what the human wanted.

 

“Hot Rod,” Charlie echoed. “I came here to talk with you.”

 

The red and orange mech stared at her, stunned. “Why?”

 

“There’s something I want to say to you.”

 

“I’m pretty sure what B’ said to me is enough,” Hot Rod responded emotionlessly.

 

Charlie shook her organic helm. “This has nothing to do with what ‘Bee said. I just want to talk with you. Alone.” She added as she gave the other two mech significant stares.

 

“Are you sure?” B’ said hesitantly.

 

“It’ll be okay ‘Bee.” The human patted his arm.

 

“C’mon,” Ironhide wrapped an arm over the younger mech’s shoulder struts. “The kid knows what she’s doing.”

 

“Um,” Hot Rod felt perturbed about being alone with the human, not at all sure what she wanted with him and if it was benign.

 

“See ya’ll in a bit,” Ironhide purposely ignored the flame colored mech’s concerns and half-dragged B’ away. “Try not ta be too harsh on that lugnut, Lil’ Lady.” Ironhide turned his helm around and smirked. “I was friends with his old surrogate after all.”

 

Hot Rod gaped at the retreating red mech. “Wha?”

 

“That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about,” Charlie revealed after they were away from everybot else. “I know about Inferno and Firestar.”

 

Hot Rod’s Spark twinged at the mention of those two designations and he fought back a grimace. “I have no idea who you’re talking about.”

 

“Ironhide told me that they were your surrogates,” Charlie continued. “That they were so excited to raise a Sparkling that was forged from a Hot Spot near their home city of Nyon with colorings that matched theirs.”

 

“None of that is…” Hot Rod tried pathetically to deny.

 

“He told me that all three of them were so happy together. One day a few vorns after they took that little mech in, there was a big fire that engulfed Nyon. Firestar’s former surrogate, Kup, risked his old frame to go find her and Inferno but only found her ward in the ash.”

 

“…stop…,” Hot Rod winced as the memory files popped up in his processors. The very memories he swore never to scan again.

 

“Kup told Ironhide that his frame was failing him and he couldn’t raise a youngling and had no choice but to send him back to basically the Cybertronian equivalent to child services. And like here on Earth, you had a rough time finding anyone to take you. Ironhide said he tried to look for you but learned you disappeared one day. He thought you might’ve run away or died alone somewhere.”

 

“STOP IT!” Hot Rod roared. “Just shut up! Shut up! I don’t want to hear any of that scrap!”

 

“Even if all of it is true?” Charlie asked.

 

“You can’t make me hear more. I won’t.”

 

“You said won’t that time,” Charlie countered.

 

Hot Rod stuttered, “W-who cares what that means? It doesn’t matter.”

 

“It does matter,” Charlie strengthened her voice. “It matters a whole lot. Especially to you.”

 

“It was four million years ago,” Hot Rod tried to minimize. “I barely even remember what they look like.”

 

“Ironhide does. You could ask him about Inferno and Firestar. He even has holo-pics of him and Inferno back when they were still Firebots together.” Charlie offered.

 

“I don’t want pictures of them,” Hot Rod seethed.

 

“No,” Charlie said softly. “You want them to still be alive. You miss them so much that you feel like there’s a big hole in your chest. You feel like that even if you hadn’t been with them that long they still mean the world to you, but you think that you’ll make yourself look weak if you told anyone about the pain you’re going through. You try to act like nothing is wrong but that’s not true.”

Hot Rod reset his intake valve and frowned. He heard so many mecha in the past give him the same story before. He didn’t want to hear it anymore, especially from a creature that would never truly understand his million years of grief. “I don’t need your pity.”

Charlie stepped closer to the red and orange mech. “I’m not pitying you. I’m sympathizing with you because I know what it’s like to lose someone dear to you.”

 

Hot Rod let out a scoff in disbelief.

 

“My dad died when I was barely sixteen,” Charlie told him. “I wasn’t even there when he passed away. I was with some friends, having lunch celebrating the diving competition that I won. I didn’t know until hours after he died that he was gone and never coming back. I hated myself for being happy, unaware to him dying and not being there when he might’ve needed me.” She took a large gulp of air and sniffed. “He always encouraged my love of cars and swimming and mechanics before anyone else. He would show me his music collection and play records while we worked on old cars together. He kissed my cheek after I scrapped my knees or comfort me when a boy I liked didn’t like me back. He wasn’t just the person that nurtured and raised me; he was _my_ first best friend.”

 

Hot Rod had his optics shut for the last five kilks since his outburst. He slowly set them online again and stared at the human with a mixture of astonishment and empathy…? How could one small organic carry the same amount of woe and suffering for only a few short Earth years?

 

“Losing my dad was like losing a part of myself. It’s a part of me that will never come back. The memories I have of him are one of the few things I have left. That’s why I get angry if people touch his stuff like I did with ‘Bee once.

 

“You’re afraid of losing more people in your life so you, in your own warped way, try to keep them close to you as possible because you don’t want to be alone again. That’s why you don’t like me because you feel your place in ‘Bee’s life is going to be threatened. Like all those years before,” Charlie concluded.

 

Hot Rod stayed quite while processing what the female said. “Heh, you sure hit the nail on the head there. Ever thought of being a therapist?” He tried to change the topic.

 

Charlie didn’t take the bait. “Just for the record, I never tried to force you from not hanging out with ‘Bee since you arrived here. And I never will. He just wanted me to feel included and for all of us to get along. He meant well but didn’t realize until now that he was hurting your feelings. So when you guys continue your big talk later, please don’t get to mad at him.”

 

Hot Rod genuinely stared at Charlie with unrestrained awe.  

 

“Wow, I never realized how lucky B-1… Bumblebee was,” Hot Rod noted.

 

Charlie frowned. “Lucky?”

 

“To have a friend like you,” he admitted truthfully for the first time in what felt like groons.

 

“Maybe we could’ve became friends if you were willing to get to know me.” Charlie presumed.

 

Hot Rod’s jaw dropped again that late day cycle. “Seriously? Even after I acted like a… prick to you?” He smiled nervously and scratched the back of his helm.

 

“Drop the passive aggressive act and I might warm up to you.” The human gave him her own small smile in return.

 

“Sounds like a good deal to me.”

 

“Deal then?” Charlie offered her servo… hand. He still had to get used to calling it that.

 

Hot Rod glanced at his servo and offered a digit. “Deal.” For the first time since he arrived on this small blue planet he willingly touched a human. Her hand was tiny compared to his index digit and yet he felt a tremor of strength not unlike his own. He wondered if others of her kind held the same raw force.

 

“We should get going,” Charlie stated after they let go. “’Bee might think we’ve killed each other if we don’t go find him now.”

 

The two of them walked for several kliks when Hot Rod sensed a familiar presence.  

 

Hot Rod laughed. “I don’t think we’ll have to wait too long,”

 

He pointed the confused human towards a leftover human structure and noticed a pair of yellow antennae sticking out from behind.

 

“’Bee.” Hot Rod raised the volume of his vocalizer just a tad. “Stop pretending to hide. We can see you. Seriously, that’s pathetic. Optimus really saw potential in you?” He continued to gripe, though his words truly held no bite.

 

The red and orange mech heard Bumblebee chuckle as he made himself known. “I was trying to give you guys some space for your big talk.”

 

“Where did Ironhide go?” Charlie asked when she noticed the red van was missing.

 

“He said he had to go finish his patrol,” ‘Bee explained. “But he’ll see you guys later if you want.”

 

“I… do have some things I would like to talk with him about,” Hot Rod said hesitantly.

 

“Like what?” ‘Bee’s optics brightened with interest.

 

“Just… some things,” Hot Rod said abstractedly.

 

“Hot Rod,” Charlie gave him a knowing stare.

 

He vented and looked directly a ‘Bee. “I promise I’ll tell you later. There’s a lot I need to explain with you and Bulk’.”

 

“Is it about how you were acting like an aft earlier?” Bulkhead approached the three.

 

Hot Rod felt his dermas split into an awkward grin. “Something like that but you don’t have to worry about me acting like _that_ anymore.”

 

“Oh, so you guys are cool now?” ‘Bee tilted his helm as his mouth guard melded into a smile.

 

“Huh?” Hot Rod uttered.

 

“Just smile and nod, Hot Rod.” ‘Bee teased.

 

Soon the three mecha all laughed and huddled into a semi-circle. The three of them rested their arms on each other’s shoulders.

 

“No more secrets?” ‘Bee requested.

 

Hot Rod nodded. “No more acting like a prick without saying why first,” he promised with a big denta-showing beam.

 

“Whatsa prick?” Bulk narrowed his optics.

 

“Ask Charlie,” Hot Rod thumbed at the human while he removed himself from the embrace and looked directly at her. “She is our liaison, right?”

 

“Yep,” ‘Bee nodded in confirmation with a small hint of pride.

 

Charlie smiled warmly at the two Autobots. “I’ll tell you everything I can think of if you and Bulkhead tell me something in return.”

 

“What’s that?” The green mech asked.

 

“How did you get _your_ names?”

* * *

 

Location: Autobot Base [Milky Way Screen Stage], CA. Time: 4030 Hours

 

Charlie wiped away a tear as she felt her insides hurt from laughing so hard.

 

“So in order to evade capture from the Decepticons, you shot yourself out of a large tube… that was one fire!” ‘Bee repeated in a mixture of amazement and slight skepticism.  

 

“Pit, yeah I did.” Hot Rod answered smugly.

 

Both Charlie and ‘Bee laughed uproariously at the statement.

 

“And that’s why they call him Hot Rod now.” Bulkhead proudly declared while nudging the alien sports car in question.

 

“Mech,” the Camaro vented with a shake of the helm. “I wished I’d been there to see that.”

 

“Me too,” Charlie agreed. “Except for all the shooting and explosions. I’ve had enough of those for a while.”

 

The three mecha chuckled. “I don’t think we can have a choice on that one,” Bulk’ said.

 

“C’mon you must have some kick-aft stories of your own.” Hot Rod proclaimed while staring directly at Bumblebee.

 

‘Bee shrugged. “They aren’t all that exciting. Aside from the mission with Wheeljack, they were just the same scout and recon jobs.”

 

“Puh-leeze.” Hot Rod rolled his optics. “C’mon where’s the Energon?”

 

“You have to have one more good story,” Bulkhead added with equal interest.

 

“Well,” ‘Bee drew out. “There was this one time Cliffjumper and I-”

 

“Wait,” Hot Rod cut off ‘Bee, his tone bizarrely sober. “Did you say Cliffjumper?”

 

“Yeah,”

 

“Is he a mech, roughly your size, but red all over?” Hot Rod asked slowly.

 

“Yes.” ‘Bee nodded.

 

“But he still looks a couple million years older than you?”

 

“And maybe carried a standard issue glass gas gun,” Bulkhead offered with weariness edging into his voice.

 

“Guys,” Bumblebee looked at his friends. “What are you… have you seen Cliffjumper? Do you know where he might be located?” His voice changed from confusion to joy.

 

“Um,” Hot Rod mumbled. 

 

“Optimus and the others need to hear this,” ‘Bee announced and activated his comm.

 

Charlie saw Hot Rod quickly shooting up from his pedes and shake his servos to signal ‘Bee to stop.  

 

“No wait,” the Cybertronian Dome Zero started.

 

“Lil’Bee?” Jazz arrived promptly as did the rest of Unit Prime. All of them carried curious expressions, while Arcee in particular appeared the most hopeful.

 

“Alright, tell us.” Bumblebee ordered his flame colored friend. “Tell us where you’ve seen Cliff’?”

 

Hot Rod sat back down with the most expressionless look Charlie ever saw on him before.

 

The mechanic had a very bad feeling about this.****** 

 

“Are you referring to Lt. Cliffjumper?” Prowl inquired. All helms peered at the police car (Charlie would wonder later where she had seen that design before).

 

“Do you know of his whereabouts, Prowl?” Optimus asked.

 

Prowl nodded with a solemn face. “I’m afraid that Lieutenant Cliffjumper’s Spark has been extinguished for ten months, five days and currently,” he checked his Cybertronian-styled clock. “oh-point-eight hours.”  

 

A heavy silence weighed on the group of Autobots and Charlie.

 

Bumblebee’s optics widened in shock and he said breathlessly, “Cliffjumper is gone?”

 

**End of Chapter 13**

* * *

 

 

 **Q-A:** How many of you hate me? I just officially declared Cliff’ dead. If any of you want my head now feel free to say so in the comments. But man, I just unloaded a lot of other deaths too. Especially for Inferno and Firestar. Who else saw that backstory of Hot Rod’s coming? I namedropped Nyon but unlike the IDW version, Hot Rod isn’t indirectly involved with its destruction. Somebot else is to blame. >X( Also, I hope Roddy isn’t too OOC in this chapter. Like I said in the previous one I have long, complicated feelings about the guy but I don’t hate him. He is still going to go through some character development as the story progresses. He and Charlie aren’t instantly best friends right now but they’ll get to being pals now that Rod’s dropping his guard down. 

 

Okay, I bet you’re tired of me telling you but I’m going to be gone from August 3rdto the 13th. I might try and upload a chapter before I go but this coming week for me is going to be very busy getting my house renovated and then packing for the trip so it’s very unlikely. I’m really sorry for leaving you all on a cliffhanger again.

 

References:

 

(Cube is not a game I made up. It originated from the _Cyberverse_ series. I included it here because Cyberverse!Bumblebee’s fanboy love of Cube is too endearing to not be in this story.)

 

*This is a retelling of the very first part of the first episode of G1 Transformers. But with a few changes. Yep, ‘Bee was one of the first two Autobots to appear on-screen. ^-^ I’m so proud of him.

 

**How many of you were waiting for that line? I know I was. X)

 

***Wheeljack invented the Roomba. It is now officially canon in my story. XD

 

****A Cybertronian phrase similar to “Nothing to sneeze at.” Don’t get dirty and think it means something else. ;)

 

*****Another quote from the original show that was from Optimus Prime to Ironhide who of course were voiced by Peter Cullen. XD I just find that so funny for some reason, hearing Peter Cullen giving advice to himself and saying he’ll miss himself after Ironhide tries to retire in one episode. XDD

 

****** Star Wars reference. Probably not the last one in this story either.

 

Songs used:

 

Chapter title: No One Is Alone by Stephen Sondheim <\- I feel like this sums up most of the chapter and maybe a little for the next one.

 

~Please give comments, kudos and subscribe. I’ll answer any questions to the best of my abilities. :D And be sure to…

 

Keep on Writin’ and Rockin’  


	16. Never Say Goodbye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Autobots finally know that Cliffjumper isn’t coming to Earth.

**Q-A:** I’m SO SO SO sorry it took so long for this chapter to come out. I was a lot more tired from my trip than I thought and real life just kept getting in the way, not to mention laziness. I hope none of you have abandoned the story because of how long it took.

I want to say thanks for all the comments and kudos I got while I was away and it really helped motivate me to write a lot more. Part of the reason why it took so long for this chapter to come out was how many pages I wrote. Almost forty. O_O All the characters just had so much they wanted to say apparently and I couldn’t stop them. So, let’s get this show on the road.

 

 ** _Disclaimer:_** I do not own  _The Transformers._ It solely belongs to  _Hasbro_ and  _Paramount_. The songs referenced in this chapter belong to their respected producers/singers.

 

 **Warnings** for this chapter are:

mentions of death,

war, religion, suggestive themes

and dubious decision making ahead.

 

"Never say goodbye, never say goodbye  
You and me and my old friends  
Hoping it would never end" 

\- “Never Say Goodbye” by Bon Jovi

* * *

 

Location: Autobot Base [Milky Way Screen Stage], CA. Date: June 20, 1988

 

For a full klik passed since the divulge of Cliffjumper’s ultimate fate. Bumblebee sensed several EM fields withdrawn immediately after Prowl spoke. He couldn’t blame them since he did the exact thing too. So many emotions were threatening to burst out of his Spark.

 

“What do you mean Cliffjumper’s gone?” Brawn demanded the Autobot General.

 

Prowl ex-vented, his mien resigned. “As I said before and I say now, Lt. Cliffjumper has been terminated for over one Stellar-cycle.”

 

“No.” All ‘bots and the sole human turned towards the direction of the voice. It belonged to the only femm present. Arcee dermas formed an open frown as her optics widened with dismay. “No,” the pink Ingetra repeated. “He can’t be.”

 

“It gives me great pain to say it but I would not dare to spread such falsehoods about a comrade that has fallen.” Prowl said sincerely. He gave Bulkhead a pointed look. “Private Bulkhead?”

 

The green Cybertronian snowplow stood at attention. “Sir.”

 

“I believe the recording of Lt. Cliffjumper’s last words need to be broadcasted to his surviving affiliates. I handed you a copy of the recording to you a Mega-cycle ago, did I not?”

 

Bulkhead rightfully appeared uneasy at the request. “Uh, do you think that’s appropriate right now, sir?”

 

“They deserve the right to know,” Prowl countered pragmatically.

 

“Right,” Bulkhead agreed carefully. “But maybe we should wait until _after_ everybot processes the news?”

 

“The average Cybertronian can process data through their cerebral processor in two fourths of an Astrosecond,” the military strategist responded.

 

‘Bee ex-vented quietly to himself. General Prowl always liked processing things rationally, but always oblivious to how others might be feeling.

 

The green continued to frown with worry. “Uh-”

 

“I want to hear it,” Arcee said while taking a step forward. “I want to hear Cliffjumper’s last words before he-” she visibly winced before recomposing herself. “I want to know the beings responsible for his… death.”

 

Bumblebee wasn’t sure he liked how Arcee’s vocalizer lowered to a deeper pitch for a moment there. Optimus seemed unperturbed however and nodded at the police cruiser and the one-time Wrecker. “Please disclose to us the information behind Lt. Cliffjumper’s expiry.”

 

“Be forewarned that what we’re about to listen to is a tad intense,” Prowl cautioned. “Perhaps not everyone should hear it if they fear they cannot handle the sounds of torture.” The black and white mech made sure he was sharing optic contact with ‘Bee and for a quick second ‘Bee noticed that Prowl shifted his sights at Charlie.

 

‘Bee inclined his helm and crouched so he was optic and eye-level with the human mechanic. “Charlie, if you don’t want to listen to the tape, I can take you home. It’s getting kind of late anyway.”

 

“No,” Charlie differed with a shake of her head. “I’ll stay. This is important to you and it’s something I need to start getting used to around here.”

 

 _I wish she didn’t need to say things like that,_ ‘Bee thought sadly before he reluctantly nodded in agreement.

 

“Okay,” Bulkhead pulled a small square-shaped speaker from his Subspace. He exchanged glances with the other Autobots before he activated the device.

 

Assorted static and other sounds that accompany the recording were emitted until ‘Bee could hear the familiar reverberations of cannon blasts and malfunctioning alerts within an escape pod.

 

“-ayday! Mayday! This is Lt. Cliffjumper. Two Decepticons are pursuing me. My quadrants are encrypted into my frame. To anybots that receive this message do not seek out my location. I repeat, do not seek me out. The ‘cons that are in pursuit are Triple-Changers. Very hostile-avoid at all-” Cliffjumper’s warning was cut off by the resonation of a loud crash. For a few Earth minutes the only sounds anyone could hear were the pod’s blaring distress sirens and a mech’s heavy venting.

 

The next thing ‘Bee heard was the noise of a door forcibly removed and then Cliffjumper grunting in pain as a dragging sound appeared.

 

“Slag,” Cliffjumper cursed through the speaker. “I could really use a servo-or a new arm-right-” He was cut off again by his own yell after something loud and metallic seemingly clashed against another plate of metal. Bumblebee guessed that this was the moment when the red mech was ambushed.

 

A quick nano-klik passed before the Autobots and Charlie were introduced to a new voice that belonged to a different mech.

 

“Somebot need a servo, or better yet an arm?” Sinister chuckling followed the question.

 

Bumblebee’s optics widened in realization. _I recognize that voice. It’s-_

 

“Where is Optimus Prime?” The voice of a femm inquired. Hers wasn’t gravely as her masculine counterpart’s but it was equally malevolent. ‘Bee remembered her too.

 

“He survived the Fall of Cybertron and no rebellion is truly dead until the leader is vanquished,” the femm exposited before she made her demand. “So where _is_ he?”

 

Cliffjumper’s heavy venting was in the background long before the interrogation began but it became more audible until he recited, “My name is Cliffjumper, lieutenant to the Autobot Resistance. My safe return will be considered-” He was interrupted by a loud slash and cried in pain. Judging by how close the hack sounded ‘Bee figured that Cliff’ was just stabbed. The yellow mech felt anger swell inside his Spark and but restrained it.

 

“Wrong answer.” she mockingly sang. “We know he’s planning to establish a base,” the femm further revealed before offering a fake promise. “Tell us where it is and we’ll let you live.”

 

“My name is Cliffjumper, lieutenant…” Cliffjumper began to say his mantra until the same sword struck him again and static could be heard.

 

 _“Sometimes you want to go-”_ an Earthen song suddenly broadcasted but was soon replaced with a familiar homing beacon.  

“No.” Cliffjumper said aloud while Bumblebee thought the same word quietly to himself.

 

“That’s B-127’s signal.” she announced knowingly.

 

“Can you trace it?” the Decepticon mech asked.

 

“Already did.” the femm responded assertively. After that ‘Bee heard Cliffjumper cry out in pain. “If you won’t tell us where Prime is, perhaps your young friend will.”

 

‘Bee felt his fuel tank sink and knew right away who she was referring to.

 

Cliffjumper was then heard gasping indignantly. “Never.” he whispered defiantly as if the very idea of one of his fellow soldiers surrendering was unthinkable.

 

‘Bee felt his anger temporally vanish, his Spark warmed at the touching loyalty Cliff’ displayed for him.

 

“You’re a brave warrior. You deserve a better death.” the femm chuckled mirthlessly. “But then again…”

 

The sword was heard for one last time and then was followed by silence. Everybot present carried crestfallen expressions, all except for Arcee. Hers was unreadable as was her EM field.

 

“That’s it. We couldn’t get anymore.” Bulkhead frowned apologetically to his fellow Autobots.

 

“We found Cliffjumper’s crashed pod and his frame on the Hyperion moon next to the planet known as Saturn in this sector of the galaxy,” Prowl recalled and then added, “The date of when the recording was made allowed us to conclude that his frame had been discarded there for almost a whole Earth year.”

 

“Optimus,” Bumblebee said. “I know who… killed Cliffjumper. The femm and mech were Shatter and Dropkick.”

 

“The same ones you defeated and stopped from sending a message back ta Megatron?” Wheeljack asked. Bulkhead and Hot Rod looked equally surprised. ‘Bee assumed they must’ve not known who Cliffjumper’s murderers were until then like the rest of them.

 

‘Bee nodded. “They’re both gone. I made sure of it.”

 

Ironhide let out a sound and crossed his arms. “Well, at least Cliff’ was avenged even if ‘Bee didn’t know he was doin’ it at the time.”

 

Jazz reset his vocalizer and stared pointedly at the red mech. The Porsche jerked his helm at Arcee’s direction. Ironhide then winced after understanding the gesture.

 

“Er, not tryin’ ta sound callous or anythin’ by that.”

 

 ‘Bee watched Arcee process the assertion and stared as she lowered her helm. On her sides both servos were clenched.

 

“Ar-” the black and yellow mech started.

 

The femm raised a servo, signaling the smaller mech to remain mute.

 

“Permission to be dismissed, Prime?” She stared straight at her leader while asking the question.

 

Optimus nodded slowly, his optics shimmered with sympathy. “Permission granted.”

 

Arcee gave her teammates brief nods before she transformed into her alt-mode and drove all the way out of the base.

 

‘Bee watched the Communications Expert’s retreating form as his Spark grew heavy from the sadness that weighed over everyone. He physically felt a pat on his arm and noticed that Charlie had touched him. The Camaro leaned down to hear what she wanted to say.

 

“Where’s she gonna go?” Charlie whispered to his audial.

 

 “I don’t know.” Bumblebee shook his helm.

 

“Sir,” Prowl garnered the other Cybertronians attention. Out of his Subspace, the former Chief Law Enforcer pulled out a datapad. “I personally chronicled a list of other Autobots that have tragically become lost to us. I had encountered their remains or reports of their untimely demises while on my mission.”

 

He handed the datapad to Optimus who downloaded the information while slowly ex-venting. His optics glowed for an Earth second until the procedure ended. Optimus then appeared as though he were carrying a heavy load on his shoulders as his helm inclined slightly.

 

“Sir?” Ultra Magnus approached the taller Freightliner with worry.

 

“I am fine.” Optimus reassured the dominantly blue mech, although his voice sounded tired. He then returned his attention to his remaining troops.

 

“We shall properly observe our fallen in memoriam once the dark cycle falls here tonight. Then we must resume work on our mission to defend this planet. For now, you are all dismissed until the preparations need commencing. Is that understood?”

 

The remaining Autobots answered with collective ‘yes sir’s’ and the congregation slowly petered out, leaving ‘Bee with Charlie, Bulkhead and Hot Rod alone again.

 

“If it’s all right with you I’m gonna go and drive for a bit,” Hot Rod announced after a few kliks of quiet. He got up and stretched his limbs before he shifted into his Cybertronian vehicle mode. “I got some pent up energy that I need to let loose.”

 

Bulkhead spoke out, “Don’t forget to-”

 

“I won’t let any humans see my form. I know Bulk’.” With that said, Hot Rod revved his engine and drove out.

 

The green snowplow ex-vented. “I hope he doesn’t go out of the base. We still don’t have our new Earth based modes yet.”

 

“Maybe you can look for a new one tomorrow?” Charlie softly suggested. Her hand was still curled around ‘Bee’s thumb.

 

“I guess,” Bulkhead responded. He glanced at Bumblebee and nervously asked, “Was it hard for you to find a new vehicle mode here on Earth?”

 

‘Bee held back a vent. He knew what Charlie and Bulk’ were attempting to do. They were trying to keep the conversation away from anything sad for the sake of his feelings. The gesture was obvious but he appreciated their sympathy.

 

“Well, I crashed landed right by Agent Burns and some of his troops and I scanned one of their Jeeps,” Bumblebee recalled. “It didn’t stick and I ultimately picked a Volkswagen after my fight with Blitzwing but that was because it was the closest in size and shape to my old form, back on Cybertron.”

 

“What did your old Cybertron car mode look like?” Charlie asked with genuine curiosity. “Is there a way you can show me?”

 

‘Bee reset his optics and processed the request. “I’m pretty sure I still have the schematics of it in a memory file.”

 

“Can you turn back into your old form just from a memory.”

 

“There’s a lot that I can do now that all of my memories have returned?” ‘Bee teased with a wink. He looked around at the vacant area before adding, “There’s no human civilians around so why not?”

 

TSCHE-chu-chu-chu-TSCHE!

 

Bumblebee’s Cybertronian vehicle mode was far more streamlined than his Camaro or Volkswagen forms. Everything screamed sleek and angular. It was still yellow with a black windshield that somehow stretched all the way to the rear. Both rear and front bumpers were gone, the tailpipe was missing and the silver front grill was nowhere to be found. On the sides of the roof two v-shaped fins stuck out right above where the doors should be but instead had indented planes with what looked like filters. Underneath the fin-like wings were two new exhaust ports on each side of ‘Bee. His two head lights were slightly obscured by a thin line of metal. The four wheels were hugged around the car’s guard while they were held in place by circular hubcaps. Two red rear lights were the only non-yellow or black color on ‘Bee.*

 

Charlie’s face contorted into a similar expression he saw on her when he first transformed into a Camaro after they said goodbye.

 

“Are you kidding me?” the girl gaped incredulously.

 

Bumblebee inwardly frowned and felt his fuel pump sink.

 

“You mean I could’ve been driving around in this sweet-looking ride this whole time?” Charlie jumped off the stage’s ledge and leaned into the black and yellow car’s window. “Oh my God, you look amazing, ‘Bee.”

 

‘Bee then inwardly scoffed at himself for every doubting Charlie’s accepting nature. “I’m glad you like it.”

 

“What the two holes above your headlights for?”

 

“My guns.” ‘Bee answered while he produced said weapons out of their hiding place.

 

“Uh.” Charlie took a careful step backwards.

 

“Don’t worry, I make sure the safety is always on.” the Cybertronian mini-car promised as he quickly sheathed the guns away.

 

“That’s strange.” Bulkhead said while inspecting ‘Bee’s form.

 

“What is?” Bumblebee asked as he converted back in his Camaro disguise and then into into his root form.

 

“I don’t recall your alt-mode looking like that. I remember it looking more like this.” Bulkhead used his projector to show the image of what appeared to be the Cybertronian equivalent to a black, yellow and silver highlighted _Formula 1_ racing car with a roof.**

 

“Oh,” ‘Bee scratched his helm while processing. “That _was_ my old form before…”

 

“Before?” Charlie prodded.

 

“Before I joined Optimus’ unit. The one I had right before I left for Earth was based on Cliffjumper’s. He gave me permission to scan an alt-mode identical to his after my second upgrade.” As Bumblebee explained, his feelings of melancholy returned. He noticed Charlie and Bulkhead wincing and he tried to offer them a weak smile.

 

“I think I might want to go get some Energon,” ‘Bee stated hastily. “I haven’t had some in a while. Maybe I’ll grab a rust stick or two while I’m there.” he added while walking away after he gave his remaining friends a half-Sparked farewell.

 

Bumblebee barely heard Bulkhead say something to Charlie before he sprinted away so no one would see his optics leaking.

* * *

 

“Bumblebee hates rust sticks.” Bulkhead uttered. “Used to say they stuck to his dentas if he chewed on ‘em.”

 

“’Bee’s really taking Cliffjumper’s death hard,” the human said to him. “He said he was looking forward to seeing Cliffjumper again.”

 

“I never knew the mech but if ‘Bee liked him he musta been a great ‘bot.”

 

Charlie shrugged. “From what that recording said he sounded like he was fiercely loyal to the Autobot cause.”

 

Bulkhead frowned as much as his shovel-dermas would allow. There had to be a way to get ‘Bee cheered up again. A simple game of Cube couldn’t be enough. Or could it?

 

“Uh, Charlie I think need ta go find a thing and uh, try to make, uh-Ijustneedtogobye!” Bulkhead stood up and hurried along to follow ‘Bee’s retreating form.

 

The ex-Wrecker was in such a hurry he didn’t even hear Charlie shouting at him from behind.

* * *

 

Location: Autobot Base [Feeding Station/Energon Convertors], CA.

 

Bumblebee vented sadly while he impassively stirred his Energon. He frowned after he took a small sip, realizing that not even including his favorite additives into the blue colored fuel elevated his unhappy mood. Suddenly the Energon began rippling within the square cup and it took ‘Bee less than an astrosecond to sense Bulkhead’s excited EMF.

 

“Hiya, ‘Bee.” Bulkhead greeted the Calvary Scout with a chipper demeanor.

 

“Hey.” Bumblebee waved languidly.

 

“So, I was thinking we could play some one on one Cube.”

 

‘Bee shook his helm with a heavy vent. “Not really feeling it right now.”

 

“Not feeling-‘Bee, you love Cube,” Bulk’ responded despondently. “I get why you said no last time but it’ll just be you and me ‘cause Hot Rod just went off Primus knows where and I might’ve left Charlie alone. My bad.”

 

“I, I think I much rather do something a little less physical.”

 

“Oh, okay.” Bulkhead bit his inner cheek while trying to think of something else. A new idea came to him while glancing at some barrels. “How about we do some stealth exercises? I know I could use the practice.” He chuckled while patting his enlarged chassis.

 

“Bulk’,” ‘Bee stood up from where he was sitting and gave his friend an exasperated look. “I’m not,” he vented before pinching his olfactory sensor. “I just want some time to myself, alright? So please, just leave me alone.”

 

“But you get sad when you’re alone,” Bulkhead countered.

 

“Well, maybe I _want_ to be sad. Ever thought about that?”

 

Bulkhead was taken aback by Bumblebee’s sharp way of speaking. For a small ‘bot he could hold a lot of anger apparently.

 

“Bulk’,” Bumblebee called out again in a much calmer voice. “I’m sorry for snapping like that-I just,” he ex-vented. “I want to do anything right now, okay?”

 

Bulk’ had to figure out something to calm down his friend and make him happy again so everything would go back to normal. For some reason none of his ideas were working. Gah, did he really have to break things outside of a battlefield?

 

“What’s goin’ on here?” Both young mecha turned and spotted the Land Rover standing a few mechanometers nearby.***

 

“Hey Brawn.” Bulkhead waved to the smaller Autobot.

 

Brawn nodded once and took a few steps forward. “So any reason the two of you are having an argument right now?”

 

The green snowplow shifted his pedes out of nervousness. “I wouldn’t call it arguing.”

 

“It kinda sounds like you were.”

 

“A little bit,” ‘Bee admitted. “He keeps trying to do all this stuff with me all of a sudden.”

 

“It’s obvious that he’s trying to show that he cares.” Brawn analyzed.

 

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell him.” Bulkhead said in agreement.

 

“And you’re going about it all wrong.”

 

“Huh?” Bulkhead reset his optics in response to his confusion.

 

Brawn vented while rubbing his faceplate with a servo. “Okay, I didn’t think I needed to say this but looks like I’ll need to.”

 

“Say _what_?” Bumblebee asked.

 

“About the time I lost some ‘bots I care about too. Don’t expect me to sound saccharine while I explain what happened. I’m just gonna say it as it was, nothing more. So both of you sit down and let me talk ‘cause I’m only gonna tell ya this story once, got it?”

 

Both Bulkhead and ‘Bee nodded and quickly sat back down. They both knew better than to oppose with a mech like Brawn. The yellow and green mech then pulled up his own chair. He tried to sit on it backwards but the backside was taller than him so he had to settle on sitting the normal way.

 

“Did you two know I was originally with the Wreckers before I was reassigned to Unit Prime?”

 

“I did!” Bulkhead shouted and then chuckled sheepishly. “I mean, yeah I did.” he said in a quieter tone. “I joined the Wreckers because you were a member once.”

 

“I didn’t know that.” ‘Bee said in mild surprise. “But thinking about it, it makes a whole lot of sense that you were a Wrecker, Brawn.”

 

“And I wasn’t just part of the Wreckers, I guess you could say that I was one of the original members. It was me and a couple of mecha who went by the designations of Impactor, Roadbuster and a bunch of others that got lucky (or unlucky, depending on who you ask) enough to stumble on Warlord Trannis’ scheme to assassinate Megatron at the cost of a whole city getting blown up.”

 

“Stumbled?” Bulkhead repeated in confusion. “But I thought Councilmech Xaaron created the task force to take on deadly missions when nobot else could do them?”

 

Brawn smirked knowingly. “Yeah, that’s what we agreed to tell the masses since we wanted them to think that foiling Trannis’ plan was not a happy accident and not just a mishap caused by some untrained mecha who were at the wrong place at the right time. Honestly we all decided to just say ‘Frag it’ and team up to blow that aft’s frame sky-high with some well-placed bombs made by yours truly. Primus, I still remember the look on his faceplates after the first bomb exploded,” he chuckled. “Priceless.”

 

“So the great legend on how the Wrecker Unit was formed is basically a lie?” Bumblebee summarized while crossing his arms.

 

“Pretty manipulative I know,” Brawn admitted with a shrug. “But the Autobots needed a win during that time and Xaaron was a big financier for the resistance. Anything to help him look good meant more shanix for us.”

 

“And then he was offlined by Shockwave. According to the history data.” Bumblebee furthered.

 

“The last mission I was on was an attempt to rescue him, interestingly enough. Impactor was leading the mission since he used to be a miner and we had to travel through a tunnel system under Shockwave’s former lab in Tarn. Just as we were about to go in, a squad of cars showed up. They said they were new Wrecker recruits sent to back us up against Shockwave’s security drones and showed us blueprints of the purple slags as proof to Impactor. I knew something was up right away. Aside from wrecking and ruling rule the other thing we Wreckers were known for is that we never called for back up.”

 

“We call for clean up,” Bulkhead interjected excitedly. When Brawn and Bumblebee gave him blank looks he recoiled and apologized.

 

“Anyway, Impactor suggested that the new mecha should drive in first. I asked him why through our commlink and Impactor told the rest of the Wreckers and me to be on our guard in case we saw the unknown cars do any funny business. When we reached the other end all twelve of us, including our new _friends_ were bombarded by half a dozen of Shockwave’s loyal slaves, like they knew we’d be there. Impactor sealed that opening with his tank blasts and we made a straight line for the other end, leaving the four cars out of the dust. We had driven back to the way we came in but found it blocked by a another bigger vehicle… that had a Decepticon brand on his front side.”

 

Bulkhead vented in shock, lacing and unlacing his digits with worry.

 

“The other four cars arrived and behind them the cave’s floor opened up, revealing Shockwave’s drones. One of them projected a hologram of the mad doctor telling us we were too late and Xaaron had been terminated. The whole point of our mission was lost before we had a chance to reach him. The only thing left for us to do was go out, guns blazing in glorious death. Me, Impactor, Roadbuster, Whirl, Hubcap, Drill Nuts, Fisitron and Twintwist fought together, beating the living scrap outta drones and ‘con cars left and right. It was the most incredible mega-cycle of my existence then… until those five Decepticreeps combined into a gestalt.”

 

“What?” Bulkhead almost jumped out of his chair in alarm but Bumblebee held it in place. “A gestalt?” he parroted.

 

“I never saw one before,” Bumblebee recalled. “Unless you count dodging a punch from Bonecrusher once.”

 

“Be grateful you haven’t yet then,” Brawn said cryptically. “The gestalt I went up against was mean, strong and unstable. They had a harder time staying together than when they were apart. The Wreckers and me had to keep avoiding fallen cars just as much as regular hits.”

 

“Mech, that tunnel musta been taking a whole lot of damage from all the fire blasts and collisions then.” Bulkhead mused aloud.

 

Brawn nodded. “You bet your aft that’s what happened next. The whole place was breaking apart by the end of the battle. Impact did the only thing he could do during that situation, he ordered Drill Nuts to dig a new tunnel for us to escape in while Impactor stayed behind to hold the ‘cons off. I wanted to stay with him but he punched me in the faceplate, calling me an idiot and do what I was told…. The last thing I saw was the giant ‘con’s right leg crushing Impactor as the opening I was shoved back into sealed in front of me. I also lost Twistcast, Roadbuster and Fisitron later that orbital cycle from either a stray laser, chocking from debris or drowning in their own bleeding Energon.

 

“Half of my team was gone, including the leader. That, along with the Fall of Cybertron, was one of the biggest failures I ever experienced. I’d rather take two-hundred thousand more shots to my shoulder pad then reliving that moment again.” Brawn finished, his dermas set into a rarely given serious frown and optics glistening from cleanser. The yellow and green mech vented and rapidly rubbed a palm over his faceplate.

 

Both Bulkhead and ‘Bee were entirely speechless. Neither of them had heard that story before. They knew of Xaaron’s demise by the servos of Shockwave but never about the botched rescue mission or the run-in with a combiner.

 

“You know what the biggest regret I still have from that time?” Brawn asked ‘Bee.

  
  
“What?” the Camaro replied.

 

“I didn’t get to say goodbye to any of them. Not even a ‘bye Impactor’, my oldest friend.” Brawn then turned his attention towards the scout. “Look ‘Bee, we all lost ‘bots that we cared about during this war. That’s what slaggin’ wars do to begin with. You had to have known that when you signed up.”

 

“Not that I was given much of a choice,” ‘Bee joked weakly before sobering once more. “But I’m still upset about Cliff’. He was a good friend.”

 

“So was Impactor and the rest to me,” Brawn stated plainly. “I went through more scraps with them then anyone else. They were the closest thing I had to Amcias without doing the bond.”

 

“Brawn,” ‘Bee spoke a klik later. “I’m sorry about your friends.”

 

“I’ve heard it a million times, mech…. But you know we all lost Cliffjumper too. All of us are hurting in our own way.”

 

“Probably not as bad as Arcee right now.” ‘Bee noted.

 

Brawn shook his helm. “You might be right.”

 

“Should somebot go and try to find her?” Bulkhead suggested uncertainly.

 

“I think I have an idea of someone that’s already doing that for us.” ‘Bee stood up. “If you don’t mind, I’m gonna go look for Charlie to let her know I didn’t mean to ditch her on purpose. Hopefully she’ll forgive me.”

 

“Who would stay mad at a faceplate like that?” Brawn teased while asking the question towards Bulkhead. The green mech couldn’t help himself from chuckling at the comment.

 

Bumblebee’s grill twitched slightly upwards for a moment before he went into his alt-mode and drove to find his human friend.

 

“Wow, how did you do that?” Bulk asked after the two of them pulled out their own cubes of Energon.

 

“Get Bumblebee to talk? Simple, I _let_ him.” Brawn made sure to intentionally stress out the word let.

 

“But he did talk to me before. Kinda.” Bulkhead admitted the last part reluctantly.

 

“Yeah, but you weren’t listening to what he had to say. You were so focused on trying to make him feel better you didn’t bother asking him why he was hurting. Lotta other ‘bots tried to do the same thing you were doing. None of it was mean of course, you and they didn’t know any better. Trust me, that the best way to start grieving is giving the mech a nice warm cube of Energon and an audial to listen. If it weren’t for ‘bots like Ironhide who did the same thing for me I probably wouldn’t even be here.”  

 

“Huh,” Bulkhead considered Brawn’s advice. “So leaking your cleanser and letting your Spark open sometimes is a good thing.”

 

“It’s corny but you can’t argue with results,” Brawn said with a shrug.

 

“I’ll be sure to keep a memory file of that for next time.” Bulkhead declared.

 

“Good, because there will be more moments like this in the future and you’ll need to get used to seeing ‘bots in mourning.”

 

Both of them sat down at the table to taking sips of their Energon. A breem passed before Bulkhead asked, “Would it be okay if you could tell me more about your missions? Um, but only if you want to since we both used to be Wreckers and everything.”

 

Brawn studied Bulk’ for a klik before saying, “If it was somebot else who wasn’t Prime or Ironhide I’d say no, but I guess I could make an exception. So, what do you wanna know?”

 

Bulkhead beamed at the smaller but older mech, hunching down so he was optic-level with the ‘bot and made his inquiries.

 

The two of them talked until the light cycle became dark.

* * *

 

Location: Autobot Base [Jazz’s berthroom], CA. Time: 1700 Hours

 

“Oh, my love, my darling. I've hungered for your touch, a long, lonely time. Time goes by so slowly and time can do so much. Are you still mine?”Jazz sang while he slowly strummed his digits over his new electro-sitar(!) to Prowl. The taller mech was partially curled around him on the berth, listening to the serenade.

 

The Porsche’s recharge chamber was the same size for all the other ‘bots who shared similar heights to his. Small but spacious enough for the bare essentials such as a berth, a desk and one long shelf above the slab for personal items. Anything else needed for living could be found in other building units across the base. The berth was only meant for one mecha or femm to recharge on but Jazz was willing to make a special case for now.

 

“Charlie introduced me to it.” Jazz spoke after he completed the song. “She said the song was her male creator’s favorite.”

 

Prowl had been busy, immersing himself with his Conjunx’s scent for a groon and stared at him after he lifted his olfactory from the visored mech’s neck cables. “It is a lovely tune. I can tell that the human had good taste.”

  
Jazz’s brief laugh shook Prowl’s frame. “I’ll be sure ta tell her that then. Are ya feelin’ better now, Sweetspark? Getting some time alone help in anyway?”

 

The Porsche waited to hear Prowl’s answer while he bathed the two of them in a comforting field. Prowl vented slowly but willingly answered, “I had carried that list of deceased Autobots for vorns with it growing at a proliferating rate after each cycle. I cannot find the proper glyphs to say what emotion I should be expressing.”

 

Jazz smiled sadly at the conflicted mech and sent another calming wave. “You’re upset about them being gone and having only Hot Rod and Bulkhead with ya when ya didn’t know ‘em that well yet. You missed the unit.”

 

“I missed you,” Prowl specified with a serious expression. Jazz felt his Spark surge with warmth. “I wanted to be back in the arms of my Conjunx after finding out that Sideburn was…” the police cruiser lowered his helm, refusing to show any weakness, even towards his Sparkmate.  

 

“You two were close.” Jazz said as a statement, not a question.

 

“As close as I was with Smokescreen. His surrogates and mine were friends so I knew Sideburn my whole existence. He was a commendable ally even if he kept running off to chase after somebot with red plating.” Prowl frowned at what Jazz presumed was a memory of the aforementioned character trait.

 

“Can’t imagine what it’d be like if he met Side _swipe_ then.” Jazz chuckled, referring to the mischievous red mech they mutually knew. He felt Prowl shudder above him.

 

“I would have rather not have that image ingrained inside my processor, Jazz.”

 

“Hah, my bad.” Jazz apologized while nuzzling his forehelm against Prowl’s chevron.

 

“I miss him greatly,” Prowl confessed a short klik later. “Sideburn may have been a love-struck fool but he was loyal where it counted. I am also certain if he had inexplicably settled down with a mech or femm they would have had a 96.08% chance of compatibility with one another.”

 

“Only a 96.08%?” Jazz arched an optical ridge.

 

“There is a small 3.92% of Sideburn’s optics occasionally straying away to look at a passing red vehicle.” Prowl pursed his dermas in that cute way Jazz liked even if the former vehemently denied in doing so.

 

Jazz hummed thoughtfully before he gave Prowl a small peck to his cheek. “Well, you never had ta worry about my optics looking away from your pretty face.”   

 

“Jazz?”

 

“Hmmm?”

 

“Could we…” Prowl’s faceplate darkened a shade, looking everywhere but the mech in question. “I mean, well. I know we were just  _together_ this afternoon but I-I _need_ you right now.”

 

“Ya never need ta ask for that, Prowler.” Jazz whispered into a kiss he drew the taller mech into. It started off innocent enough before they both became greedy and kissed everywhere their dermas could reach while their servos pawed beneath the transformation seams. The two soon fell back down on the berth and resumed a dance they knew every step.

* * *

 

 

Location: Marin Headlands, CA. Time: 1715 Hours

 

There were a few things Arcee had grown accustomed to (and even fond of) while on Earth. The hills in the headlands near Brighton Falls were one of those places that while she found enjoyable to drive around and admire the scenery. Arcee confessed to herself that she hadn’t been to many organic worlds but she was still amazed with how different Earth felt from Cybertron with everything there being metallic and no signs of biological life. While she may not have been completely engrossed in its culture as Jazz and Bumblebee, the pink Integra could see what was appealing about the planet. She thought there was something beautiful to the green hills and thick forests, in an alien sort of way. On nights identical to that one in particular she had wondered what would Cliffjumper think of it all.

 

Now she’ll never know.

 

Arcee growled to herself for processing such thoughts and sped up, going further into the area and didn’t stop until the road ended by the cliffs. There was a manmade parking lot vacant except for her, which allowed her to decide to shift into her root form and walk until she stood near the edge. Saltwater waves lapped against the rock, accompanied with the sound of California gulls in the distance.

 

“Another thing to differentiate from Cybertron, I guess.” Arcee mused aloud to no else.

 

With the nearly setting sun above the horizon and the ocean shinning brighter than starlights, the spot would’ve been perfect. Instead all the captain could feel were negative emotions threatening to surface. She purged the pessimistic code from her systems but the feeling stayed.

 

For the first time in vorns, Arcee felt isolated in every sense of the word.

 

The close by sound of a humming engine stiffened Arcee for a moment until she noticed the EM field that came with it. Oh, she knew that EMF very well. Right behind her, Arcee heard the familiar transformation sequence and the approach of two pedes.

 

Hot Rod ceased walking once he stood side by side with the pink femm. She sensed him withdrawing his field after noticing how tense hers was. A part of her wanted to apologize for the rudeness but didn’t want to ruin the natural ambiance with spoken words or through a commlink. 

 

When she noticed the pointed stare from the red and orange speedster she clarified, “I spoke with the humans at Sector 7 from their vocal communications network for clearance to drive here. We’re free to visit this location thirty minutes after 1600 hours and I was given permission to stretch out of my alt-mode once I was given the clear that no humans were nearby.”

 

“Arcee.”

 

“I’m not really in the mood right now, Hot Rod.” the pink femm said in a curt tone. Her optics remained on the water.

 

Hot Rod ex-vented. “Look, I just came here to talk.”

 

“Well, go ahead,” she interjected contumely. “Everybot knows how much of a conversationalist you are.”

 

“I just wanted to make sure you were okay, okay?” Hot Rod explained in mild frustration. “You just drove off so abruptly without explaining why.” 

 

“Do I really need to answer that question?” Arcee annotated.

 

“The last time we talked you said that you wanted us to get along while doing our jobs and something about bonding with a new mech.”

 

“We weren’t bonded,” Arcee said icily.

 

“Did you want to be with him?” Hot Rod asked slowly.

 

“Just drop it, Rod.” Arcee ordered, still avoiding optic contact with him.

 

“Why?”

 

“Because what I really don’t want to do right now is talk about my dead courtier with my ex.” The pink Integra decided she had enough and started to stalk away. Hot Rod moved quickly until he was walking beside her.

 

“If you want to talk about something else that’s fine,” he insisted. “It doesn’t even need to be about him. It’s like I said, if you’re upset about something you can talk to me.” His field carefully slid out and brushed delicately against hers. She coldly brushed him off but he was persistent.

 

“C’mon Ar’, we used to be close. Even before we began courting. You’re still the only femm on Cybertron that can call me out if I do something stupid.”

 

“Only on Cybertron?”

 

“Well ‘Bee’s human pal, Charlie, had just given me a verbal beat down earlier in the light cycle.”

 

“You probably deserved it.” Arcee cantankerously said while giving him a sideways glance.

 

“Ouch,” Hot Rod feigned a wince. “But you aren’t lying. And I guess I was being a little crass about talking about Cliffjumper earlier.”

 

“A little?”

 

“Okay,” Hot Rod raised his arms in defeat. “A lot more insensitive, but you can’t blame me for being a little curious. I’ve not heard a lot about this mech, but the short time since I got here he’s somebot everyone here likes.”

 

“We’ve grown to care about one another fiercely after the unit was formed.” Arcee said without hesitation. “It was bad enough to find out about his passing but that he’s been gone for months because he was murdered, I-I.” She ceased her walking and turned her attention to the ground, staring at her pink and white-heeled struts. She hadn’t noticed until then how tarnished they became since arriving on Earth.

 

 _Just another thing I was oblivious to._ she mused bitterly.

 

“Well.” Hot Rod attempted one more time to comfort her. “On the plus side, we at least know who did it and for an added bonus the two ‘cons responsible are already dead.”

 

“That’s supposed to make me feel instantly better?” Arcee asked, incredulously. She whipped around until she was fully glaring at the mech. “Cliffjumper is dead! Even if we didn’t know who terminated him he would still be gone. Nothing can change that.”

 

Hot Rod seemed to have processed what she said before frowning. “At least _you_ know who killed him instead of just some vague memory file from when you were a youngling.”

 

Arcee’s narrowed optics widened by a fraction and her dermas dipped into a less strained frown. Hot Rod opened his field to her once more and that time she hesitantly allowed theirs to tangle.

 

“Look, I’m not saying you should immediately get over Cliffjumper’s demise.” Hot Rod spoke calmly. “For Primus’ sake, that would make me Sparkless if I’d suggest that on the same day you found out he was gone. I was already called out for being a piece of slag today, I don’t think my ego could handle it twice,” he joked, earning a lessened glare from the femm. The flamed colored speedster continued, “We can at least find some closure knowing that ‘Bee took Cliffjumper’s killers out and that they won’t hurt anybot else again. Two less ‘cons to worry about, right?”

 

Arcee had lowered her helm when he started to talk but then slowly lifted it again to stare at him. “Is it wrong for me to say that I wished I had known before Bumblebee killed them so I could’ve done it myself?”

 

Hot Rod scratched his helm. “Uh, you might wanna ask the Hatchet that one instead of me but I get where you’re coming from. Really I do but you should ask yourself if that’s what Cliffjumper would’ve wanted you to do.”

 

“No.” Arcee shook her helm.

  
  
“What would he want you to do instead?”

 

The Communications Expert looked down and stared at her servos, clenching and unclenching them and then ceased the function to answer, “He would’ve told me that everyone dies and while we’ll feel sad about that we shouldn’t let that jeopardize the mission. If we want there to be less deaths we need to make Cybertron a peaceful place again.”

 

“Sounds like he was a smart ‘bot.” Hot Rod complimented in a laidback way.

 

The pink femm’s dermas moved into a half smile. “He always knew the right glyphs to say.”

 

Plink.

 

Arcee’s sensory notified her that a few droplets of liquid suddenly appeared on her digits. She wondered for a nano-klik if the sky was leaking again but then realized the fluid was coming from her optics after she reset them and more solvent came out. Little by little more of the cleanser flowed out. Arcee also felt her venting protocols malfunctioning and could barely breathe. She fell on her leg joints and became overwhelmed with all the emotions she had suppressed at that point. A small pulse from Hot Rod’s field brushed against hers and for the first time after they romance dispersed Arcee fullsparkedly allowed their EMF’s to merge, for solace this time instead of love. After three breems Arcee’s leaking slowed to a more controlled rate and her inner fans slowed to an unhurried speed. Hot Rod offered a servo and she humbly accepted it, allowing herself to be helped and pulled up.

 

“How do you feel? Still bad?” Hot Rod asked while watching her wipe the sand off her plating.

 

“It’s so fresh.” Arcee said with a course sounding vocalizer. She reset it and said, “I’m not sure when the pain will completely fade.”

 

“Sometimes it doesn’t.” Hot Rod divulged. “As Optimus Prime would say, ‘External wounds are the ones that heal the quickest.’” he spoke in a gravely voice.

 

Arcee couldn’t help but laugh. “Was that supposed to be Optimus?”

 

“I always told myself I’d never be like him.” Hot Rod said as a put down to himself.

 

“You shouldn’t. You’re much better as yourself.” she stated sincerely.

 

“As your ex?” Judging from Hot Rod’s tone he sounded unsure.

 

“A friend.” Arcee offered a servo to him. Hot Rod clasped it just as she planned and pulled him into a hug. She felt his EMF and frame stiffen momentarily before he returned the embrace.

 

“Thank you for coming for me.” she said after they finished their hug and she looked straight into his sky blue optics.

 

“Wow, you’re way nicer to me than when we were courting.” Arcee gave him a look. “Kidding.” he corrected. “I’m kidding. Sort of.”

 

Arcee rolled her optics but giggled in spite of herself. “Don’t get used to it. I’ll be back to my old self in due time.”

 

“Huh. For some reason that doesn’t scare me.” Hot Rod pretended to sound relieved and gave her a knowing wink.  

 

“You know you’re not supposed to be out of the base in your Cybertronian car form.” Arcee pointed out while gesturing to his Cybertronian features.

 

Hot Rod grinned insecurely. “Yeaaah, I was kinda hoping you would help me find an Earch vehicle so when we get back to base I won’t get yelled at.”

 

“… You are the most impulsively idiotic mech I’ve had the displeasure of meeting.” Arcee announced but smiled a weary grin.

 

Hot Rod vented good-naturedly. “That’s what you said before we broke up. That and some other choice glyphs I should probably not say audibly.”

 

“C’mon _Hot Wheels_.” Arcee motioned with her helm to follow her queue and revert to their alt-modes.

 

“That’s Hot _Rod_.”

 

“I know what I said,” the pink femm joked before she led him down the road towards the most populated road they could find for Hot Rod’s new form.

* * *

 

Location: Autobot Base, CA. Time: 1730 Hours

 

Charlie had no idea what to do after all the mecha left her. She knew ‘Bee didn’t mean to, he had so much going on and then learned that one of his friends was dead was clearly taking a toll on his usually cheery demeanor. The mechanic decided, after waiting for a full twenty minutes, to get up and meander around. She tried to get her thoughts straight but it felt like so many of them were swimming through her mind. She still could hear the sickening slash from the end of the audio recording. Charlie had assured ‘Bee that she would be fine while listening but a part of her regretted it still. The other half focused on the scout.

 

The way he talked to how he moved, Charlie couldn’t remember a time she had seen her best friend look so distressed. When he left a part of her wanted to follow but decided against it. ‘Bee appeared as though he wanted some space. Charlie knew how that felt and hoped ‘Bee would be willing to confide with his friends about his feelings eventually (and if he didn’t say anything in about a week, her, Hot Rod and Bulkhead were free to perform an intervention).

 

Charlie walked around with no real destination in mind and ended up near the building where the drive-in’s inventory was stored. In its place was a large indoor gymnasium of sorts filled with training equipment for any able bodied Cybertronian. There were the classic spears, shields, flails, axes, cannons, shooting range and a round fighting ring where Charlie spotted Ironhide sparring with a dummy through the building’s window. It was a very one-sided fight since the mannequin didn’t move in the slightest. That didn’t stop Ironhide from giving it his all. Perhaps a little too much? From the way the red van punched at the immobile doll and dishing out the occasional curse word in a language Charlie couldn’t understand, something seemed off. When the dummy fell, no longer attached to a poll that was holding it in place, Ironhide lowered his arms and then started to stomp over the ‘opponent.’ Charlie couldn’t help but recoil from how intense Ironhide’s fighting style was. The mechanic decided that she was better off not disturbing the mech’s way of dealing with grief and moved on onto the next place.

 

Charlie found herself next to Wheeljack’s laboratory where he was working on a new device of some sort. There were two small dishes with an arch on each one and only connected together by a small cable. On one plate there was a crunched up can of Tab resting on the center. Wheeljack typed some notes onto a datapad and then pressed what looked like a button attached to the device. A bright flash engulfed the used Tab can and it disappeared but then materialized on the other pad.

 

Charlie’s eyes widened and her jaw dropped. Wheeljack invented a working teleportation device and it didn’t blow up?

 

Wheeljack however did not appear pleased by the apparent success. If anything his unusually gloomy demeanor was left unchanged. He typed some more notes before activating the teleporter and listlessly poked at the can.

 

The mechanic decided not to interrupt the inventor and left, summarizing to herself that if he looked that bad when a gadget actually worked she didn’t want to see him when one broke down.

 

Charlie made the choice to avoid other people for a while by walking along the old fence. Her fingers occasionally tugged at the wires but did nothing except kick the occasional rock.

 

 _There has to be something I could do._ Charlie thought with concern over her newfound friends. _I always hate feeling helpless._

As she contemplated her role she was then shocked to hear something nearby that wasn’t an animal or the usual Cybertronian engine or Energon harvester. It sounded like a score to an instrumental track but Charlie had trouble recognizing it. The melody reminded Charlie of a music box if a synthesizer from the past decade performed it. Charlie wanted to know where the sound came from when her answer came in the form of Optimus sitting alone. The tune was being emitted from Optimus himself as he stared at his right arm. Charlie felt very bad for intruding on what was clearly a private moment and tried to walk away, back into the trees when-

 

“Is there something you need, Charlie?”

 

 _Crap_ , Charlie silently cursed with a wince. She slowly pushed the branches that were obscuring her body away and reluctantly walked towards the Freightliner.

 

Under normal circumstances Charlie would love to talk with the Autobots’ leader but currently she was worried about getting scolded for eavesdropping even if it was totally an accident. Her brown eyes trailed over the robot’s frame and towards his arm where the music had played. For a second she saw a flat holographic projection of a female Autobot with pink plating and mistook her for Arcee at first until she saw the very different helm shapes. As soon as she saw the image, it disappeared.

 

“Charlie?”

 

The mechanic fumbled briefly and remembered the previous question. “I’m sorry for intruding. I was just wandering around for a bit and ended up here. I promise I’ll go.”

 

“There’s no need.” Optimus raised a servo to signify the girl to calm down. “In all honesty, I appreciate the company. You may join me if you like. Unless you are needed elsewhere I understand.”

 

Charlie was surprised by the offer and thought it would be rude to say no. “I, uh, think I have a few minutes to kill. I could use a rest anyways,” she said moderately true.

 

“Good.” the blue and red eighteen-wheeler nodded approvingly while Charlie propped herself over a rock next to him. The two of them sat in silence for several minutes while staring at the sky. Twilight would be approaching them in the next hour or so.

 

“You and your clan are more than welcomed to join us while we mourn for the loss of Cliffjumper and our other soldiers lost in the line of duty, according to the list General Prowl has given me. I’ve already invited Agents Burns and Fowler to the service.”

 

“Were you out here because you’re sad?” Charlie purposely bit her tongue after blurting that out. She hated it when people asked her about her dad sometimes and she had no idea if Optimus would react similarly or not.

 

“Partially yes.” the Prime spoke a minute later, unperturbed by the question. “It pains me whenever I learn of a ‘bot that had their Spark extinguished. To add another life on the ever-growing list of offlined mecha and femmes brings me much sorrow and more disdain over this unending conflict against the Decepticons. But if I were to surrender then more lives, both Autobot and organic would be finished. Sometimes I come out here to soothe my trepidations.”

 

“Was the music you were listening to help with that? It sounded pretty.”

 

Charlie didn’t know why she thought about it but she couldn’t help but believe that Optimus was smiling under his mask.

 

“It is a composition from Cybertron written for an old opera called _The Princess & The Warrior_.”  

 

Charlie’s inner music lover squealed about learning Cybertronian music, even if it was classical sounding. “Does the song have a name?” She inched forward, eager to hear his answer.

 

“The Aria of Airglow, named after the royal heroine of the opera. She sings it at the end of the second act after learning that her lover, the titular warrior, is in danger and decides to go rescue him even if it may cost her Spark. The version I was listening to was an instrumental from a production I saw once a long time ago. It’s my favorite piece and also…” Optimus’ optics narrowed slightly and his shoulders drooped.

 

“Also what?” she asked but then added politely, “If you don’t want to answer, that’s okay.”

 

“You told me something this cycle. It’s only fair I do the same and speaking about it can help.” Optimus said in a soft voice.

 

“Help with what?” Charlie asked with concern for the big ‘bot.

 

Optimus did not answer her directly but instead pressed a digit over his right arm and the flat hologram from before appeared. Now that Charlie was closer to it she had a much better time eyeing the image. It took her a second to realize that what she was seeing wasn’t a photo but a moving image similar to a video playing. What she saw was a pink and white femm shooting at an unseen enemy with a gun identical to what the majority of Unit Prime (sans Bumblebee) use.

  

“I assume you’re already familiar with this likeness.” Optimus said knowingly.

 

Charlie titled her head while examining the moving picture. “She reminds me a little of Arcee with the same colored plating.” She quickly regretted the wording and fervently apologized, “I seriously hope that doesn’t come off as racist. I’m not saying all of you look the same-and you don’t really, though when I first saw you and Ultra Magnus I thought you were related but that’s dumb, I’m dumb-sorry.”*****

 

After getting a better look Charlie corrected herself and realized that while Arcee and the unknown femm had parallel coloring that’s where the similarities ended. Arcee’s pedes were flatter and gray with two of her car wheels sticking out in the back of the legs but the mysterious femm had pink pedes with pointed heel struts and no kibble. Her pede’s color also matched her knees, ‘skirt’ and chest armor while her upper arms were a much lighter pink and the servos, thighs, calves and mid-section were white. What was probably the most notable difference the two femmes had was that Arcee’s helm was roundly shaped and mostly white with some pink on the sides while the older looking femm’s helm was entirely pink. She also had antennae resembling a six-pointed star. The way the other femm moved, walked and shouted orders to unseen soldiers in the background gave Charlie a feeling that the femm radiated confidence and resilience against adversity. Kinda like Optimus Prime.

 

“Please, I am not offended. As a matter of fact the reason Arcee has a comparable paintjob is because she looked up to the other femm, designated Elita-1.”

 

“Elita-1.” Charlie repeated to get a better feel for the name.

 

“In fact, Elita-1 was part of the reason why we had so many Autobot femmes, they were inspired by her. It might not look that way with my unit but there are many more femmes out there, across the galaxy.”

 

“What is she like? Is she a lot like you?”

 

“Yes and no at the same time,” Optimus said with a vent. “Elita-1 was brave. She was very brave and strong. So strong that she could beat Brawn at an arm wrestling match with her optics shut off.”

 

“Really?” Charlie asked, amusement bubbling to the surface.

 

Optimus chuckled. “Yes, she and the rest of us never let Brawn live it down. There were times when I felt she was stronger than _me_. She _was_ strong where I was weak. Stubborn when I would yield. Rigid while I was more adaptable. We were each other’s opposite but complimented each other perfectly. She always helped me see things through a different perspective and each of us gave the other hope when it seemed lost. She had the most courage out of any Autobot and the most compassionate to others in need.”

 

It didn’t take long for Charlie to notice that Optimus wasn’t just listing facts about Elita-1 but spoke about her with an overt fondness in his voice.

 

“You love her, don’t you?” Charlie guessed.

 

Optimus’s optics gazed at the mechanic with understanding. “Elita-1 was the light of my Spark. I can never love another ‘bot the same way I loved her.”

 

The mechanic quickly noticed that Optimus kept referring to the femm in the past tense.

 

“Is she-” Charlie quickly cut herself off in time in order to spare Optimus’ feelings.

 

“Gone?” he finished for her anyway, causing the human to smile apologetically. Optimus didn’t appear offended, though his optics looked sad. He lifted his helm to stare at the sky again and continued, “As far as I know she could be.”

 

“What do you mean by could be?”

 

“How much has Bumblebee told you about the Rust Plague?”

 

Charlie was put off by the question at first but answered truthfully, “He told me about how Cybertron used to be connected to dozens of colonies before most of them got hit by Cosmic Rust and Cybertron was forced to cut off ties with those worlds to prevent the disease from spreading there.”

 

Optimus nodded. “One of those worlds was called Caminus; a colony that valued culture and religion above all else. It was the home of a number of femmes that Elita-1 was dear friends with long before she was even called Elita-1. One of those friends was a femm known as Chromia, who was also very close with Ironhide.”

 

 _Does Ironhide have a girlfriend?_ Charlie couldn’t help but smile at the idea before her thoughts turned serious again. “So I’m just spit-balling it here but when you guys couldn’t contact the other colonies anymore, Elita-1 was upset because she was separated from her friends?”

 

“Correct,” Optimus concurred. “She was despondent about the separation but knew there was nothing we could do at the time. When the war started her focus shifted to finding a way to end the fight once and for all and joined my side me as an Autobot. Overtime she became my second but was seen as my equal by the optics of our forces. Four million years ago was when things changed. During that time period both sides were evenly matched. For a full vorn, Autobots and Decepticons were at a stalemate. My council and I were on the verge of initiating an armistice with the Decepticons when Blaster, our head of communications, alerted us that he received an encoded message from Caminus. The speaker of the memorandum implored to us that their world was dying. Caminus’ Energon supplies were thinning and the citizens had less than a meta-cycle before they would run out.”

 

“Why was Caminus dying?” Charlie asked with worry.

 

“Colonies, like Caminus, were never meant to last on their own without a steady supply of Energon. Our predecessors made it that way so the colonies had no choice but to continuously trade with Cybertron for resources and the main world in turn held an iron grip.”

 

“Not gonna lie but that sounds really unfair.” Charlie stated as a mater of fact.

 

“Indeed, but Camiens found a way around that issue by developing fuel-efficient frames that needed less Energon to consume and power their Sparks but even then that only spared them six to seven million years before their reserves ran completely dry.”

 

“I hope you don’t take this the wrong way but that still sounds like a long time to me.” Charlie noted in awe.

 

“I believe there is a man on your planet that once said time is relative and how it be determined differently depending on the person.”

 

“Albert Einstein.” Charlie informed.

 

“Yes him, but let’s return to the main topic, shall we?” Optimus suggested. “Now once Elita-1 got word of the message she wanted us to send aid to the planet and go there at once to help them evacuate. The Autobot council shared a differing opinion. They argued that we had no time to stretch out our resources on a message that had a lack of evidence to prove it was from Caminus other than a code that was vorns old by that point. The council also feared that if we did take action the Decepticons would find out and try to attempt the same objective but would instead steal the colony’s resources for themselves and harm the Camiens in the process. The debate between them and Elita-1 and her supporters lasted for a whole deca-cycle until I became the deciding vote over which proposal to agree to. The choices were we would use our only ship capable of interstellar flight to seek out a world that may or not be in peril, or remain on Cybertron to commence long awaited negotiations to end the multi-million war that has ravaged the surface and had taken so many innocent Sparks. With much deliberation, and a heavy Spark, I ultimately acceded to the council.”  

 

“So you chose to save one world at the possible cost of another’s?” Charlie stated with confliction in her voice. She couldn’t decide if she was mad at the choice the Autobots’ leader made or agree that it was the right (but extremely hard) one.

 

Optimus Prime at least had the courtesy to sag his frame in a repentant manner. “To this day it has been one of my greatest regrets. My old mentor always told me that being a leader meant you had to make tough choices that would weigh on your processor.”

 

“How did Elita-1 react to the decision?” Charlie felt she already knew the answer but wanted to be sure.

 

“She was furious with both the council and especially with me, and for the first time we had a horrendous argument that lasted several orbital cycles.” the Freightliner ex-vented heavily before he resumed. “She accused me of slaughtering millions of lives over my naivety in thinking Megatron was willing to go along with a ceasefire, while I in turn indicted her for not seeing the full picture of how long the war has lasted and any chance we had to end it needed to be attempted. I can remember that the last words she said to me were, ‘I never wish to speak with you again’ and then she left.”

 

Charlie could only stare sympathetically at the ‘bot. While she was still shocked over Optimus making the call in the end, she wondered if there truly was no right or wrong decision.

 

“Do you remember the ship I mention with the capabilities of interstellar travel?” Optimus asked rhetorically before answering himself, “The name of that ship was called the Ark.” Optimus elaborated while gesturing, “A Vanguard-class Deep Space Interceptor capable of interstellar travel and a Warp Drive for hyper speed. The Ark was part of a fleet of grand spaceships that were destroyed by both sides during the war to prevent either side from leaving Cybertron or to seek out resources. The Ark was the last of its kind because we concealed it from the Decepticons clutches far beneath the levels of Cybertron. Elita-1 took the ship after our argument once she and her supporters incapacitated the ship’s guards. Four million Earth-years have passed and nobot had seen a trace of the Ark.”

 

“She just took the ship?” Charlie gasped in disbelief.

 

Optimus vented deeply. “To make matters worse the Decepticons found out and attacked us with newer, more deadlier soldiers. Apparently during the impasse, Megatron’s loyal scientist, Shockwave had designed factories with faster assembly lines, which allowed the Decepticons to have that edge they needed while the council and I had argued. Elita-1 had been accurate and I had failed.”

 

“I’m so sorry.” Charlie finally said. She gingerly moved her body closer to Optimus’. She made no attempt to console him with touch because she didn’t know if that would be appropriate or not.

 

“Your rapport is appreciative.” Optimus nodded in thanks. “But if you think differently of me after that revelation I understand.”

 

“You made a mistake,” Charlie said encouragingly. “Everybody does that. I know I do,” she added with a sigh. “Like the time I agreed to race with ‘Bee to get back at that bully. That idea was super stupid.”

 

“I believe the mistakes I’ve made compared to yours have led to far more consequences, including the loss of a two worlds and the one femm dearest to my Spark.”

 

Charlie bit the inside of her cheek, struggling to find the words to ease the giant robot when one phrase popped up. “It might not be much but there’s this quote that my friend Memo likes. ‘The darkest nights produce the brightest stars’”.

 

The mechanic glanced back at Optimus and saw that he was staring her with thoughtful optics. She swallowed her nervousness down before saying, “I think it means that no matter how bad things look, something good comes along to balance it out, eventually. Like how I was in a dark place before meeting Bumblebee and he helped me feel like myself again. And I think something good will happen to you guys too, maybe finding out the Ark is okay or winning the war.”

 

A minute passed between the two before Optimus leaned down until his helm was eye-level to Charlie’s head.

 

“For a creature who had only recently reached your majority more than one Earth year ago, you are full of immense wisdom, Charlie Watson.”

 

Immediately Charlie’s cheeks heated up a considerable amount. “I’m really no one special,” she protested abjectly. “I didn’t come up with the quote, it was from my friend. And-”

 

Optimus raised a servo to silence her. “That may be true but you connected the line with your own meaningful thoughts and prior to that chose to judge me with an open mind after I regaled my story to you.”

 

“It’s not like you wanted anyone to die.” Charlie said meekly. “You’re nothing like Shatter or Dropkick who _wanted_ to see a planet get destroyed. You’re a good person that just made some mistakes.”

 

There was something in the renewed glow in Optimus’ optics that Charlie had a feeling was amusement. “I’m now able to see that Bumblebee’s adoration of you is truly beyond surface level.”

 

“Um, thanks?” She had trouble knowing if her face was getting redder than it already was. “He is my best friend and I care about him a lot too,” Charlie tried to salvage.

 

Thankfully Optimus inadvertently saved Charlie from further embarrassment by standing up, ending the conversation after he announced, “The sun is going to set in a few groons. It’s time we gather the others and join them for the funeral.”

 

Charlie glanced at her clothing and became self-conscious. “Should I grab ‘Bee and quickly head back to my house to wear something formal?”

 

Optimus shook his helm. “You may wish to, if you see fit. Personally I believe there is no need. What you have on is acceptable.”

 

The mechanic smiled appreciatively at the Freightliner. “Thanks Optimus. I should go find ‘Bee so I can go get my family for the service.”

 

“Until the next time we speak.”

 

“’Til next time.” Charlie waved before she walked and started to half-job but stopped short when Optimus called out to her.

 

“You meeting Bumblebee was the bright star over our darkest night.” Optimus spoke in a way she could practically hear him beaming under the mask.

 

Charlie’s blush returned with a vengeance. “Prime.” she unintentionally whined, earning a hearty chuckle from the mech.

* * *

 

Location: Autobot Base [Main Square], CA. Time: 2000 Hours

 

At the center of the base, ten robots stood without Prowl and Ultra Magnus. They had left hours earlier to retrieve the Praxian’s stolen ship that had been housed at McKinnon once it was extracted from Yosemite a few days prior. The ‘bots mingled about, engaging in minor chitchat to pass the time while they waited.

 

Bumblebee sat next to the Watsons and Ron while occasionally glancing at the others shooting the breeze. He watched Optimus exchange small talk with Ironhide and patted the redder one on the shoulder plate in a comforting manner. Neither of them appeared sad but they weren’t smiling. Wheeljack widely gestured at Bulkhead, drawing up imaginary circles of some kind while Bulk’ nodded along, tacking on some techno babble ‘Bee didn’t fully understand. Brawn and Jazz weren’t speaking to each other aloud but the Camaro sometimes came across snippets of off-road driving in their commlink. He also noted that Jazz’s coat was shinier than normal. Did the Porsche give himself a repaint and why?

 

Arcee and Hot Rod were talking amicably and the most surprising was that the femm was leading the conversation and the speedster was the one listening for a change. Whatever Hot Rod did after following Arcee must’ve helped improve her mood. The only ‘bot by himself was Ratchet who nursed a small cube of Energon and seemed contented with that (even if he still casted a tried front from the last few days).

 

“How does a Cybertronian funeral differ from an Earth one?” Charlie asked ‘Bee, snapping him from his processing.

 

“Well,” Bumblebee scratched his helm with searching for the memory file of the last wake he took a part in. “Usually we gather what is left of the fallen ‘bot, have an Autobot of the highest rank around (Optimus in our case) and they’ll say some words about how we’ll not forget the one we lost. If the offlined ‘bot made the request, the funeral attendees usually take the ‘bot’s remains and throw it into a smelting pit to be recycled with honors. But we settled with burying Cliffjumper since we don’t have a pit,” he pointed to the large rectangular hole the other Autobots stood around by. “And building a hot enough fire to melt metal might attract unwanted humans.”

 

“Okay then.” Charlie nodded in understanding, though she carried a surprised expression.

 

“I guess using a smelter isn’t widespread here like it is on Cybertron?” ‘Bee couldn’t help but tease her.

 

“Not unless you want to extract a metal from ore.” Charlie somewhat joked, which earned her a laugh from ‘Bee.

 

“I’m very proud of you honey,” Sally said suddenly to her creation.

 

“Mom,” Charlie said, sounding perturbed.

 

“It’s just that you told me you would refuse to go to one of these if you were asked,” Sally unfolded.

 

‘Bee’s had his interest piqued.

 

“Mom.” That time Charlie hissed at her mother in a whisper. “Don’t bring that up while ‘Bee is here, please.”

 

Bumblebee then felt awkward about his sensitive audials since he could hear everything the two were saying. He rightfully chose to remain quiet in order not to upset Charlie even further.

 

“I’m sorry.” Sally apologized after becoming aware of the present company.

 

“It’s okay.”

 

“Prowler and Mags are coming,” Jazz announced over everyone

 

Indeed, the Ford police cruiser arrived leading the FLC112 Freightliner and a few Sector 7 branded vehicles inside the base. Ultra Magnus’ trailer held a solar barge that Prowl rechristened as the Cervo.****** It was a basic dull bronze colored starship, smaller than Steeljaw’s Dropship, but large enough for a five-mech crew. While it was blocky in shape, the ship possessed either a tow line for large ships to pull it or sails to absorb energy from starlight.

 

“It’s style is basic but its decent for something without a warp drive,” Jazz commented as Prowl reverted to his root mode. ‘Bee saw that the general also had a bright new paintjob as well.

 

 _Now why would both of them get new paints after reuniting yester-_ ‘Bee then recovered a file that had details about the dark cycle before Prowl left the team. A newer, more perverse thought began to develop before the scout quickly deleted it. Nope, he didn’t want to think about _that_ right now.

 

“Yes,” Prowl groused with his usually impassible air. “It was a long trek through space the last couple of vorns but my mission was a success as expected.”

  
  
“Do you know what Prowl’s mission was?” Charlie asked ‘Bee who was relieved so he could think of something else for a change.

 

“Well.” ‘Bee hummed while searching for an answer.

 

“It was to get Bulkhead.” Hot Rod explained as he approached the humans and ‘Bee after the red and orange mech finished talking with Arcee.

 

“Bulkhead?” Charlie repeated in bewilderment.

 

“Why him?” ‘Bee added.

 

“’Cause he’s a genius, that’s why.” Hot Rod said. “He’s really good at space bridge tech and other stuff kinda like that.”

 

“Really?” ‘Bee was sure his optics were widened comically but he didn’t care.

 

“Cheeuh,” Hot Rod smirked and probably giddy at using the new Earth word he and ‘Bee learned from Otis. “Why else was he in basic training with us? Just so he could punch a few Decepticruds, even though that is pretty fun. Naw, he also wanted to use that big ol’ processor of his and learn how to be a space bridge engineer.”

 

“That’s why you were with Prowl?” Charlie asked.

 

Hot Rod nodded. “Yep. General Prowl found my remaining unit and me at Kalis. He wanted me to find Bulk’ since I still had my commlink with him. Took us ages but we found Bulkhead at an Autobot space-station near Barrenikon.******* Said he was there studying black-holes or something… Sorry, he’s better at explaining that kinda junk better than me.”

 

“It’s fine.” ‘Bee reassured his friend before his attention was directed towards the agents Burns and Fowler as they addressed Prowl.  

 

“We tried opening the door earlier but it was locked.” the Camaro heard Burns say to Prowl after he turned his audials up.

 

Bumblebee wasn’t sure how he felt after hearing Sector 7 attempted to get into a Cybertronian ship, even a former ‘con one.

 

“Oh, my apologies.” Prowl took out a small oval shaped device with a button. He pressed it, the ship let out a sharp chirp accompanied by the ship’s lights blinking.

 

“Now, it is unlocked.” Prowl confirmed while crossing his arms behind his back.

 

“A remote controlled keyless entry system.” Charlie observed with interest. “Neat,” she complimented.

 

Prowl went over to the Cervo and opened up a keypad to unlock the side doors, which then opened with a resounding _swoosh!_ Ironhide, Bulkhead and Brawn followed him and the four of them came out carrying a severely damaged, but recognizable, escape pod as though they were its pallbearers.

 

‘Bee felt his Spark ache at seeing the small ship and knowing who was inside.

 

The four Autobots carried the pod before ceremoniously lowering it to the ground by the dug up hole. Optimus opened the pod’s door, which released in a slow hiss. He nodded to the quartet who dragged out Cliffjumper’s split in half gray carcass. ‘Bee almost couldn’t prevent his anger slip out of his EMF and sensed that the others trying to keep theirs at bay as well. The Camaro felt a gentle pressure on his servo and saw that Charlie was holding his digit in solace. He then felt Hot Rod’s field nudge towards his. ‘Bee accepted both of them in their own respected ways, silently thanking them for the support.

 

Optimus Prime lifted the two remains of Cliffjumper, eyeing them regretfully, before lowering them into the hole. Next, Optimus placed both servos above where his Spark chamber would be beneath his plating with the same formality priests from the Temples of the Primes once practiced before the war laid waste to them.

 

“We shall remember Cliffjumper, Mirage, Hauler, Glasspit, Clipper, Sideburn, Mudslinger, Windbreaker, Double Clutch, Perceptor-”

 

‘Bee heard Wheeljack let out an audible vent before the Camaro turned away to give the scientist privacy again. Bumblebee, the Autobots and their human guests continued to listen to Optimus recite the list of fallen ‘bots. Dozens of names then grew into over a hundred of the ones to have recently perished. Sadly, ‘Bee and everybot else knew there were thousands more dead, besides the ones on Prowl’s report but they were all properly mourned vorns ago.

 

“We mustn’t let the deactivation of these Autobots blind us with anger.” Optimus instructed his soldiers.

 

“Currently us twelve are the only Autobots on Earth. More than ever do we owe it to ourselves to survive for the sake of all remaining members in our resistance, humankind, the galaxy and Cybertron.” He looked to everyone in the audience, both autonomous robotic organisms and organic alike. “There will be more challenges in the future. Our trust, faith, and friendships will be tested,” ‘Bee squeezed Charlie’s hand in assurance and locked optics with Hot Rod and Bulkhead, who knowingly nodded. The red and blue Freightliner looked back to his troop for the last part of the speech. “But we cannot forget our mission to retake our home and restore it to a peaceful and just world. We will continue to fight on and as long as there is freedom left in the universe, we shall remember those who have fallen.

 

“We will not forget their sacrifices for they will be etched into our Sparks and will live in our memories. Until all are one.” he finished with a bow towards Cliffjumper’s burial.

 

“Until all are one.” Bumblebee and the rest of the Autobots reprised together while placing servos over their concealed Spark chambers. Optimus led the others into taking turns burying Cliffjumper with a shovel from his Subspace. The Autobot Commander was the first to saw a few words about the offlined lieutenant, about how he was steadfast to the cause. Each ‘bot before Bumblebee and Arcee had their own words. Even though they didn’t know him personally, Hot Rod and Bulkhead thanked the red mech for looking out and befriending ‘Bee. When it became the Camaro’s turn he went over to his radio/stereo.

 

“I asked Charlie earlier to help me look for a song that reminded me of Cliff’. It took some literal digging through her collection when I found this from a band called _Triumph_ and this is from their _Allied Forces_ album.”

 

“Fitting name.” Ironhide observed with a small grin.

 

‘Bee continued, “Something about this song, from a planet that Cliffjumper never even set pede on, made me think of him. I want to share it with all of you and maybe… he’ll hear it too.”

 

The Camaro gently pushed the audiocassette into his stereo’s slot and pressed fast forward until the reel was at the right song.

 

_“The days grow shorter and the nights are getting long. Feels like we're running out of time. Every day it seems much harder tellin' right from wrong. You got to read between the lines.”_

‘Bee shut off and closed his optics as he let the music sweep over him, letting his memory files bring him back to a time when his friend was online.

_“Fight the good fight every moment. Every minute every day. Fight the good fight every moment. It's your only way.”_

He remembered after first meeting Cliff’ and how he kept asking over a dozen questions to try and trip the young scout to see if he was a ‘con spy or not. Then he reminisced how Cliff’ apologized to him over a hundred times for doubting the younger ‘bot after witnessing ‘Bee go against a Seeker that tried to tempt him with shanix if he spared the flyer.

 

_“All your life you've been waiting for your chance. Where you'll fit into the plan. But you're the master of your own destiny. So give and take the best that you can.”_

‘Bee even recalled the last thing Cliffjumper said to him before they parted ways for good.

 

::Next time you see me will be on that dirtball of a planet:: The lieutenant had said right before he jumped into his escape pop back on Cybertron all those cycles ago. ::If I’m first, you better let me pick the berth with the most space!::

 

‘Bee hadn’t wondered it until now, what if Cliff’ had any personal reasons for wanting the biggest berth? He opened his optics just a centimeter towards Arcee’s direction right before the song reached its completion.

_“Every moment of your lifetime, every minute every day. Fight the good fight every moment. Make it worth the price we pay.”_

After the song ended, ‘Bee ejected the cassette and handed it back to Charlie and saw that her eyes were glistening. He glanced around and saw that almost everyone had fluid threatening to come out of his or her optics. Optimus, Prowl and Magnus were the more dignified ones while Wheeljack was a blubbering mess, much to Brawn’s visible annoyance who was standing next to him. Even Burns tried to cover his apparent sadness with a cough but Fowler shook his head with disproval for hiding away manly tears. Well, the only who wasn’t crying was Ratchet. He always insisted that he cries on the inside.

 

“A very nice tribute.” Optimus validated with a soft rumble.

 

“It’s a bit mushy, but in a good way.” Brawn admitted with a shrug, pretending that the song didn’t get to him.

 

It did. 

 

The rest of the Autobots and the humans shared their own words of praise, with Charlie playfully nudging ‘Bee after he sat back down.

 

All that was left was Arcee. She looked to Bumblebee with a Sparkfelt expression. “Thank you ‘Bee. That song you picked really did sound like something Cliff’ would’ve said if he were here with us.”

 

“You’re welcome.” the Calvary Scout nodded his helm in gratitude.

 

From her Supspace Arcee pulled out a vial. Inside the thirty centimeter long bottle was pure blue liquid, transparently glowing in its own.

 

 _Her innermost Energon._ ‘Bee realized with amazement.

 

It was an older practice for Cybertronians to offer a small donation of the Energon that cased around their Sparks at a funeral. Just one syringe full of the stuff could fuel a ‘bot or ‘con for one Deca-cycle. The reason why no one just used innermost Energon regularly had to do with the fact that removing too much of it from the Spark caused it to become weaker and possibly susceptible to Spark-related illnesses. Naturally, it fell out of popularity after how long the war went on and robots on both sides stopped bestowing something so valuable to a dead ally approximately every cycle.

 

Arcee stood silently there for a klik, presumably sending out a prayer to Cliffjumper. She pressed her dermas against the glass flask before placing it inside the hole along with the gifts the others bestowed as alternatives to their own Energon. Optimus nodded to Bulkhead who used his Cybertronian snow-plow mode to push the remaining dirt into the grave. Afterwards, the Autobots and humans went over to the feeding station where the former consumed warmed Energon with additives while the later had a table with “lucky pots” situated for them. At the centerpiece was a strange orange concoction covered with a white topping. The humans found it flavorful apparently.

 

“This sweet potato and marshmallow casserole is amazing.” Sally gushed after swallowing a forkful.

 

“Yeah,” Fowler agreed. “Who knew your brother could make a sweet potato dessert almost as good as my great aunt’s. Almost.” he added while glancing at the sky and pretending to worry. “She’d make sure I’d be damned if I said someone else did it better than her.”

 

Burns rolled his eyes at his friend’s dramatics but said honestly, “Thanks. I’ll be sure to tell my brother you all like the recipe I barrowed from him.”

 

“I wonder why the humans like eating that orange goop,” Hot Rod surveyed. “Nothing beats a good rust stick over Energon in my datapad.”

 

“You gotta give them credit though for all the food verities they have and how many ways they can combine them together.” Bumblebee pointed out. “All we really need is just a cube for sustenance.”

 

Hot Rod sifted over his large serving of rust sticks consciously. “Yeah, well. Rust sticks taste good.”

 

“All in moderation.” Bulkhead advised in a sing-song voice.

 

“Let me eat in peace, will ya?” Hot Rod grumbled while waving the two off.

 

Bumblebee and Bulk’ laughed slightly before finding places to sit. Charlie joined the Camaro after she finished her spread with her family.

 

“Shanix for what you’re currently processing?” ‘Bee asked inquisitively.  

 

“Can I ask you a question?” the mechanic requested.

 

“Sure.”

 

Charlie stared straight at him, her expression serious. “What does ‘until all are one’ mean?”

 

“It’s what all mecha and femmes say at the end of a hymn.”

 

“Sort of like amen?”

 

“I guess.” ‘Bee responded with a shrug. “I’ve never been the super religious type to know all the exact meanings behind the prayers or scriptural datascrolls. You should ask Optimus since he knows that stuff better than anyone else.”

 

“I don’t know a lot about my Earth’s religions either.” Charlie divulged casually. “I just know a lot of them like to believe there’s either one God or a group of them watching over us.”

 

“What do you believe in?” ‘Bee then recoiled slightly. “Or is that too personal?”

 

“No, it’s not.” the mechanic said soothingly. “I still follow scientific thinking to a degree, but I think that there are some questions that might not get answered through science. I like to believe that there’s something out there, which I guess turned out to be aliens.” she gave ‘Bee a crooked smile and he chuckled with a knowing glint in his optics. Charlie’s smile then changed into something more somber.  “But I do like to believe that there’s a heaven up there.” She stopped and then looked up to the sky.

 

“Heaven?” ‘Bee titled his helm while following her gaze.   

 

“A place where all the good human souls go after they die. I want to think my dad’s up there, watching over me and my family.” Charlie’s smile returned while she wrapped her arms around her knees and rested her chin on top of them.

 

“That’s very nice.” ‘Bee praised.

 

“Thanks.”

 

“We have something like that on Cybertron too.” Bumblebee revealed. “The Well of Allsparks. When a mecha or femm offline, their Spark returns to the Well no matter where they are. Some ‘bots believe that Sparks sometimes can reincarnate into a new frame after staying in the Well long enough.”

 

“… Maybe you’ll get to see Cliffjumper one day again.” Charlie offered to her friend.

 

‘Bee’s optics squinted as his faceplates formed a smile. “Maybe someday.”

 

The two of them sat there in silence, watching the stars appear one by one. And perhaps it was Bumblebee’s imagination but for a second he thought he saw two stars near each other twinkling brighter than the rest.

 

**End of Chapter 14**

* * *

 

 **Q-A:** Was that too cheesy of an ending? I don’t care, it’s my story. :D

 

Did I just confirm that Optimus is a Shipper on Deck for Charbee? Nahh. ;) I hope this chapter brought closure to Cliffjumper’s death like it did for me. Even though it was canonically the second time Clff’ died in something TF related. He even survived in _The Transformers: The Movie_ with Jazz if I’m not mistaken. But yeah, I hope Cliffjumper dying won’t become his new thing like ‘Bee loosing his voice seems to be. That would be a waste of a good character.  

 

So, I bet a lot of you have questions as to why Brawn’s a former Wrecker, Elita-1 took the Ark and how is Bulkhead a genius? The reason I made Brawn a Wrecker in my continuity is because I felt that would make a great connection between him and Bulk’, especially for future chapters I have planned for them. Plus, it just makes sense with how much Brawn likes a good brawl. XD Now I really hope nobody thanks Prime and Elita are acting OOC in this. Both of them obviously have their reasons for acting the way they did and Optimus still carries extreme guilt over what he did. As for the fate of Elita-1, her followers and the Ark? That will be addressed in a future chapter.

 

Bulkhead being a space bridge tech wiz isn’t something I came up in all honesty. Spoiler Alert for a show that’s over ten years old,

-it was a plot point in the TFA series. It was an interesting twist, though I honestly wished it had been built up a lot more so it didn’t feel completely out of left field. But that’s just my opinion.

Speaking of opinions here’s a made-up cast list of the main Transformers in my story. It was inspired by _Arkman127_ ’s comment who originally asked me what kind of voice I imagine Ratchet to have. So, because I am such a weird person, I came up with voices for all the current Autobots and Decepticons that have appeared in the story so far.

 

For the Autobots: 

Dylan O’Brien as Bumblebee

 

Peter Cullen as Optimus Prime

 

Jeff Bridges as Ironhide

 

Chris Evans as Ultra Magnus   

 

Grey Griffin as Arcee

 

Mark Hamill as Ratchet

 

Ron Pearlman as Brawn

 

John DiMaggio as Wheeljack

 

Billy Dee Williams as Jazz

 

Michael J. Tatum as Prowl

 

Christopher Mintz-Plasse as Bulkhead

 

Chris Pratt as Hot Rod

 *** 

The Decepticons: 

Frank Welker as Megatron

 

Steve Blum as Starscream

 

Jon Bailey as Soundwave

 

Matt Berry as Shockwave

 

Scott McNeil as Thundercracker

 

Travis Willingham as Skywarp

 

Daran Norris as Knock Out

 

Adam Baldwin as Breakdown

 

Daniel Henney as Deadlock

 

Steeljaw, Thunderhoof and Underbite have the same voices from RiD.

 

P.S. I imagined Polar Claw with Christopher Sabat’s voice. Meaning, POLAR CLAW’S PAW PUNCH HAS BEEN PASSED DOWN THE BEAR-BEAST LINE FOR GENERATIONS! XDDD

 

References:

 

All the underlined dialogue is directly from the Bumblebee movie. I re-watched that scene at least twelve times to get every word and intonation right.

 

*Here’s the site where I got Bumblebee’s Cybertron car from since I couldn’t find good enough screen shots from the movie: <https://tformers.com/bumblebee-movie-ilm-concept-art-reveals-what-could-have-been-a-real-transformers-movie/34939/news.html>

 

**That’s Bumblebee Cybertron alt-mode from TFA.

 

***Mechanometer is a meter according to TFWiki.

 

**** Drill Nuts is from _Beast Wars II_. There he was a weevil but in this story I imagine him as a small brown and dark tan colored excavator with a drill attachment. He likes to invent new attachments that do everything but construction work like a feather duster or a claw small enough to hold soda-pop cans full of Energon and causes them to spill out from the build up pressure. Drill Nuts’ is biggest accomplishment was teaching Teletraan 1 how to play solitaire that knows if someone is trying to cheat. Smokescreen still hates Drill Nuts for doing that.

 

***** Optimus Prime and Ultra Magnus were brothers in the _Transformers Robots In Disguise_ anime from 2001. Their relationship there was much different than in this story to put it lightly.

 

****** The Solar Barge is a ship from _Transformers Armada_ _Panini_ comic series. **Don’t** confuse the comic with the toasted sandwich. I made that mistake once and it wasn’t pretty. Or tasty. ;)

 

******* Barrenikon is a planet that “You” accidently end up on in _The Transformers Sticker_ book thanks to a wormhole that just happens to connect it to Earth. I figured that maybe Autobots would want to study the vortex to help improve their space-bridge technology.

 

Songs used:

 

Chapter title: Never Say Goodbye by Bon Jovi

 

Unchained Melody by Alex North and Hy Zaret

 

Fight The Good Fight by Triumph

 

~Please give comments, kudos and subscribe. I’ll answer any questions to the best of my abilities. :D And be sure to…

 

Keep on Writin’ and Rockin’ 


	17. Saturday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charlie helps the Autobots prepare to celebrate their first 4th of July with a few surprises along the way.

**Q-A** : Hey everybody! I’m back on schedule again! Woooh! :D I want to say thanks for all the reviews and kudos I got from the last chapter. It made me happy to see that most of you really liked it. I saw some old and new faces respond to it, which pleased me. Anyway I don’t have much here ‘cause I don’t want to spoil the story but I have plenty to say in the AN at the bottom. But please read the chapter first before you read it. I feel silly for asking but it feels like just a precaution for me.

 

 ** _Disclaimer:_** I do not own  _The Transformers._ It solely belongs to  _Hasbro_ and  _Paramount_. The songs referenced in this chapter belong to their respected producers/singers.

 

 **Warnings** for this chapter are:

Swearing, gay jokes,

mentions of war and death.

 

 “Slow motion riders,

fly the colors of the day.

A bronze man still can

tell stories his own way”

\- “Saturday” by Chicago

* * *

 

Location: Pasadena, CA. Date: June 30, 1988.

 

“Okay, so that was Cyndi Lauper’s _Hole In My Heart (All The Way To China)_ from her upcoming film _Vibes_ that she’s co-starring with Jeff Goldblum and also has Julian Sands and Peter Folk. On August 5th is when you can catch the film in theaters.” DJ Rodney Bingenheimer, on his show, _Rodney on the ROQ,_ announced in his usually informal manner of speaking.*  

 

Not that what he was saying reached its current listener anyway as he was a little bit busy with typing a program on his _A500_. His professor, Dr. Alcazar, did tell the class the completed program software was due when school officially started in September. Luckily for the young man his roommate was in the same class and both of them agreed to collaborate, so the project would go along faster and they could have the whole weekend off. The man in front of the computer smiled to himself as he thought of getting to visit San Francisco for the first time and maybe even get to visit the shooting locations for _Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home_ -

 

RING!

 

The young man’s hands rose off from the keyboard after he heard the phone.

 

“Chip, can you get that?” Chip’s aforementioned roommate called from across the hallway. “I just got out of the shower and-well, you know.”

 

“Say no more, I’ll get it,” the young computer wiz promised while he pushed himself from his desk. Chip pulled at his wheelchair wheels and then rolled out of his room. He headed towards their apartment’s kitchen; interconnected to their living space where a banged up teal couch (a “donation” from Chip’s roommate’s older sister) was situated in front of their TV (Chip’s) and _NES_ game console (also Chip’s).

 

Chip grabbed the phone right after it made its fourth ring and exaggeratedly answered, “Heeey, you reached the bachelor pad of Chip Chase and Guillermo Gutierrez.”

 

“I don’t call myself that!” Chip’s roommate shouted as a tired statement from the bathroom.

 

Chip rolled his eyes cordially at his roommate. “Fine. Chip and _Memo_ , are here right now and-… Oh.” Chip’s eyes widened after recognizing the other person on the phone. He pulled the handset away and twisted his neck to call out, “Hey Memo, it’s your mom. She wants to talk to you.”

 

Chip heard a series of fallen objects and the occasional tamed curse word as Memo stumbled out of the bathroom in nothing but a towel for his hair and waist.

 

“Really man?” Chip sighed while turning away from the unappealing sight of his wet roommate in near nudity.

 

“If my mom’s calling she wouldn’t want me to make her wait to long.” Memo protested. Chip quietly handed the phone over to his roommate who then greeted his mother on the phone.

 

“Couldn’t you have least worn a longer towel?” Chip asked objectively while turning his wheelchair around and heading back to his room. He was halfway there when a loud gasp was uttered behind him.

 

“What? Is she hurt?”

 

Chip paused his wheelchair’s movements, concerned by his friend’s words. He knew better not to listen into someone else’s conversation but his curiosity got the better of him. Chip noticed that Memo’s posture was hunched with worry and nodded even if Mrs. Gutierrez couldn’t see him. All of that were signs of how anxious Memo really was.

 

“Okay… okay.” Memo repeated earnestly. “Yeah-no, no-Mom, it’s fine. Really. I definitely understand. Yes, please keep me posted if you hear anything new. Yeah, all right… I love you too. Bye.”

 

Memo then sighed while he hung up the phone. A hand covered his face.

 

“Is everything okay with your folks?” Chip asked with unease. “I’m sorry if I was eavesdropping. I didn’t mean to listen in.”

 

Chip’s roommate waved him off, untroubled by his friend’s confession. “My mom called because she said my grandmother tripped while going down some stairs last night.”

 

Chip’s eyes widened from shock. “Your grandmother? The one who lives in San Diego?”

 

Memo nodded sadly. “Yeah, that one.”

 

“Oh my God.” Chip breathed out as he placed a hand onto his head. “I’m so sorry. Do you know if she’s okay?”

 

Chip didn’t personally know anyone in the Gutierrez family aside from Memo’s parents who helped them move in back in May. He could tell from the short time he knew them they were nice enough people and Memo said he had a pretty good relationship with his maternal grandmother who lived in the states with them. She even sent Memo Tres Leches cake to their dorm a month back.

 

“My mom says that the doctor told her that my grandma isn’t hurt badly. She was lucky to have fallen close enough to the floor than at the top and the steps were carpeted. The doctor still wants her to stay over the weekend just to make sure she’s okay. Mom, Dad are there right now while Julia hasn’t left Phoenix yet.”

 

Julia being Memo’s older sister who was living with her boyfriend in Arizona and had a steady job as a bank accountant.

 

“Mom told me that because of what happened she’s cancelling the family barbeque during the Fourth.” Memo frowned apologetically at his friend. “I’m really sorry. I know you wanted to go to Brighton with me and visit San Fran.”

 

Chip shook his head incredulously. “I don’t care about some stupid trip, man. Your family is way more important and should come first.”

 

“Yeah, but my mom did give me some good news,” Memo revealed.

 

“Like what?”

 

Memo shifted his eyes away and smiled nervously. “Do you remember the older girl I told you about?”

 

Chip frowned while he recalled the previous conversation they had before smiling deliberately. “You mean the one who worked at that hot dog stand who kept turning you down?”

 

“She didn’t keep turning me down,” Memo insisted before adding hesitantly, “She just wasn’t ready to date again… Anyway her family is having a party of their own and actually called up my mom, asking if I’d come to theirs instead.”

 

“Seriously?”

 

“I think if I ask nicely enough, you can come along if you want.”

 

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to impose,” Chip lamely attempted to decline the offer but was secretly excited about the idea.

 

“C’mon, I’m sure they won’t mind if I bring one guest with me.”

 

“Well if you insist.” Chip teased before mentally preparing a list of all the clothes and other assorted items he’ll need for the weekend. “But you should still call your friend Charlie first just to see if she’ll be cool with it.”

 

Chip watched Memo ruminate his suggestion. “Yeah, I should do-”

 

RING!

 

“-that.” Memo finished before exchanging an interested look with Chip. The teen with the curly hair went over to the phone and answered it.

 

“Hello?” Memo had an uncertain expression before it morphed into one of surprise. “Wow, I was just talking about you-I… oh, yeah. I’m at my dorm right now. You want me to what? Okay, could please give me one minute,” Memo trailed off before placing the phone down and quickly heading back to, presumably, his room. Chip saw that his friend came back fully clothed and grabbed the landline after his return.

 

Chip raised an eyebrow at his roommate’s behavior as he observed him walking towards their dorm’s window three-stories above and looked down. Memo waved wildly for a second and then did that thing where he pretended that someone was pulling him away.

 

Chip couldn’t help but roll his eyes at Memo’s antics.

 

“Yeah, I can see you waving,” Memo answered through the landline at the other end of the room. Chip was grateful that their phone cord was one of those stretchy spiral ones. “You want me to-uh, sure I’ll see you in a minute. See ya.” After that Memo hung up the telephone once more.

 

“So, I’m going to venture a guess and say that was your girl-friend?” Chip asked and grinned at seeing Memo spazzing.

 

“Charlie’s not my girlfriend.” Memo denied. “We’re just friends.”

 

“Well she’s a girl, who happens to be your friend.” Chip shrugged placidly but carried the biggest grin on his face.

 

“Don’t be a smartass, we’re just friends okay?” Memo reminded him.

 

“Fine, whatever you say.” Chip responded with one more jab. “What did she call about then?”

 

Memo sighed before reluctantly saying, “She’s here and wants me to come downstairs and talk.”

“Oh?”

“This is why I didn’t want to tell you.” Memo groaned at Chip’s eyebrow wiggle.

 

“No more persiflage at your expense. Got it.” Chip raised his hand, imitating a _Boy Scout_ salute. “I promise.”

 

“Laying it on there thick with the big vocab, huh Chip?” Memo mused.

 

“I need to practice for the next SATs quiz any chance I can get,” the young man in the wheelchair expressed while waving to his friend as he left.

 

Once again curiosity got the better of Chip as he couldn’t help but wonder if Memo was going to attempt to lay the moves on that girl or crash and burn. So, like the good friend that he was, Chip rolled over to the window where Memo had stood earlier and looked through the glass and down the street near the alley Charlie stood by.

 

The girl was a little over five feet in height with dark brown hair and eyes to match. She looked about two or three years older than Chip (he was fifth-teen since April) and wore blue converse sneakers, ripped jean shorts and a green sleeveless vest over a black t-shirt with words he couldn’t completely make out. She was pretty in an unconventional way and seemed approachable enough. His eyes stopped trailing her form once they landed on two cars hidden in the alley she was next to.

 

 _What’s a_ _Lamborghini_ _and Camaro doing in that alleyway?_ Chip thought with amazement. He remembered Memo telling him once that Charlie liked to restore cars but how did she get her hands on a bangin’ car like that?

* * *

 

Memo decided that taking the elevator was too slow so he ultimately decided with going down the stairs. He could barely contain his excitement knowing that Charlie was in Pasadena. Even if he didn’t like her romantically anymore, the two of them were still very close. It probably helped that neither of them had no one else to talk to about _last summer_. The summer where Memo unintentionally dragged himself into the biggest secret that the world would never know as long as he kept his mouth shut even if it was so hard. It got even harder when he learned that his new roommate for the Caltech summer program was a big fan of _GoBots_ like he was. Chip would faint if he knew there was such thing as aliens who could turn into cars, planes and jets and the whole war and two factions thing. Too bad Charlie dismissed the idea after Memo brought it up once after meeting ‘Bee.**

 

Memo quickly brushed away his previous thoughts. He knew better not to bring it up around the mechanic. Charlie was still not over Bumblebee leaving even if it was her idea in the first place. It probably didn’t help that her red sports car stopped running a couple of months ago.

 

Speaking of which-

 

“Hey!” Charlie called out, bringing Memo out of thinking for a moment.

 

Memo took a few gulps of air after running quickly over the street to avoid incoming traffic.

 

“Wow, being in the big city turned you into a jaywalker.” Charlie reflected jokingly with her hands on her hips. “What’s next? Stepping on grass when there’s a sign that says don’t walk on it?”

 

“Ha-ha,” Memo retorted while trying to get his breathing regulated. _Man, I should go work out more,_ he thought.

 

“Sorry it took so long for me to come down here. It was just my roommate.” Memo wildly gestured to where his dorm’s window was. Charlie eyesight followed where his thumb was pointing towards.

 

“You have a roommate?” Charlie asked sounding interested.

 

“Uh, yeah?”

 

“For how long?”

 

 “Since the since May.” Memo raised an eyebrow at her sudden fascination. “Why do you ask?”

 

Charlie pursed her lips and shrugged her shoulders, suddenly a lacking any interest. “No reason. Just askin’” She then held a guilty expression. “I’m sorry it took so long to see you.”

 

Memo shook his head, frivolously. “Naw, I get why since your Corvette stopped working. How did you get here by the way? I didn’t think your bike could take you so far down here,” he joked but did scan around to see if her motor-powered bicycle or her parents’ stationwagon was nearby.

 

“That’s actually half of the reason I’m here.” Charlie revealed before shifting her eyesight towards a car that was slightly obscured by the backstreet’s shadows.

 

Memo tilted his head and finally noticed that the vehicle was a yellow muscle car with two black stripes over it. It perfectly matched the description Charlie confided to him about Bumblebee’s new... car form.

 

Oh.

 

“Is that?” Memo momentarily cut himself off before he pointed at the Camaro.

 

“Yes.” Charlie grinned after he put the pieces together.

 

“It’s me.” ‘Bee answered in a voice that sounded like a young man’s. Memo guessed it must’ve been from the radio.

 

Memo gawked. “He’s here? Bumblebee came back?”

 

“I sure did.” the robotic alien exclaimed while pulling up forward by a few inches. “I wasn’t going to leave her or you forever, Memo.”

 

“Wait,” Memo said after realizing something.

 

“That’s not his radio?” he asked Charlie.

 

She held a rather smug look and crossed her arms. “Maybe.”

 

Memo turned his attention back to Bumblebee. “You can talk.”

 

“Yep.” the yellow muscle car responded happily.

 

“Oh my God!” Memo gasped. “You have your voice back!”

 

“I know.”

 

“You can talk normally without the radio.” Memo was beyond the capacity to think anything else.

 

“I know!” ‘Bee cheered, his car frame shaking exuberantly.

 

Memo stared at Charlie again. “Did you know he could talk?”

 

“Duh, yeah I knew.” Charlie said straight, dropping the coy act. “The reason I got to meet with ‘Bee again was because he wanted me to see him get his voice back.”

 

“I wanted you to come too, but Charlie said you weren’t at your house.” ‘Bee added in a regretful tone.

 

“Yeah, I’m here on a early college program and…” Memo trailed off. “Hold on,” he looked up at Charlie again. “How long has ‘Bee been back?”

 

Charlie rubbed her other arm and smiled sheepishly. “Since June fourth.”

 

Memo’s eyebrows rose. “Almost a month?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“He’s been back that long and you told me this now?” Memo wasn’t angry but he was still shocked that Charlie kept that piece of information from him for so long.

 

“I know,” Charlie glanced at the ground shamefully. “So much has happened since ‘Bee and I reunited but it’s not a good excuse for not telling you sooner. I’m really sorry.”

 

“I hope you can forgive her,” ‘Bee pleaded. “It wasn’t completely her fault since I was busy with helping Optimus and the others get settled on Earth and needed Charlie’s help with her explaining Earth stuff to them.”

 

“Wait, who’s Optimus?” Memo questioned. “And what’s that about the others? Like are there more of your kind here?” the self-proclaimed nerd could hardly contain his excitement.

 

“Funny you should ask that because I brought a couple friends here to meet you.” ‘Bee announced. “Right behind me I have another Autobot here.”

 

“Autobot?” Memo repeated with confusion.

“That’s the name of their faction.” Charlie explained. “The Autobots are the good guys like ‘Bee here while the Decepticons are the name of those bad robots that tried to attack us last year. Also that big hologram we saw back at McKinnon was of Optimus Prime, ‘Bee’s leader and in charge of their resistance.”

 

“Okay.” Memo nodded slowly while absorbing all the new information before he remembered something he thought of earlier. He shot Charlie an unyielding stare. “Didn’t I ask a while ago if Bumblebee was a GoBot?”

 

Charlie frowned slightly. “He still isn’t.”

 

“But isn’t it exactly the same thing?” Memo tried to reason.

 

“’Bee’s not a cartoon character, Memo.”

 

“Right, but maybe he could star in one.” Memo mentioned. “Maybe one about his story and those Autobots and Decepticons you mentioned?”

 

“I seriously doubt the war ‘Bee’s people been in for millions of years could be considered child friendly.”

 

“Neither is _Rambo_ but he still got a cartoon.”

 

“... Touché.” Charlie reluctantly conceded.

 

Memo was secretly pleased with himself.

 

“So,” Memo said while turning his attention back to Bumblebee, “what did you mean by bringing some of your friends here?”

 

“Are we alone?” ‘Bee asked.

 

After Charlie went over to the alley’s opening and poked her head out for a moment she stepped back inside and answered, “We are.”

 

“Okay.”

 

TSCHE-chu-chu-chu-TSCHE!

 

Instantly ‘Bee was in his robot form after going through a sequence Memo hadn’t got tired of seeing yet. ‘Bee then crouched down and turned a bit to reveal that a large green rectangular car was behind him the whole time.

 

“Is that a-”

 

“A _1986_ _Lamborghini LM002,_ ” Charlie summarized nonchalantly. “Or at least that’s his disguise he got thanks to Sector 7 finding him a car big enough to shift into about a week ago.”

 

“It was either that or a SWAT car.”*** ‘Bee stated in a similarly casual tone as though the two of them were talking about the weather.

 

“Hi,” the Lamborghini said weakly, his right door opened back in forth, presumably to simulate.

 

Memo waved timidly. “I’m Memo.”

 

“Bulk’,” ‘Bee gently tapped the hood of the green truck. “You can transform now that Charlie checked the coast is clear.”

 

“But what if I-”

 

“You won’t step on anyone Bulk’. There’s no other humans around,” ‘Bee assured. “He’s like this all the time, but hasn’t hurt anyone,” he added to Memo possibly because of the worried look the human may have casted.  

 

“It’ll be okay.” Charlie promised, but it was unsure to whom she was talking to.

 

The above-mentioned Bulkhead stayed silent for a second before giving out a small “okay” and then his car plates moved about until he was a large (very large!) green and silver robot with the same blue eyes as Bumblebee.

 

“Whoa,” was all Memo could utter at the squatted metal-coated alien.

 

“I kinda miss my Cybertron form to be honest.” Bulkhead said while scrutinizing at his body.

 

‘Bee shook his helm at his friend. “I think it would draw more attention than the truck this time of the year with no snow to plow.”

 

“What’s snow?”

 

The white pupils in ‘Bee’s eyes shrunk considerably. “Uhhh.”

 

CHLINK!

 

All four people inside the alley turned around and saw that a keychain belonging Chip fell because he was sitting there out of the open with his jaw dropped and body shaking.

 

Both Charlie and Memo made a straight beeline towards the wheelchair bounded teenager.

 

“Oh my-” Chip spluttered in a very tiny voice, which under normal circumstances would’ve sounded hilarious to Memo but now was not one of those times.

 

“PLEASE DON’T FLIP OUT!” Charlie shouted with her arms out and then froze; possibly impending the young man to freak. Chip turned his head to look at Charlie and Memo and then the robots who acted equally similar to Charlie’s deer-in-the-headlights reaction.

 

The brunet inhaled some air and rapidly rambled, “I’m-not-flipping-out-who’s-flipping-out-definitely-not-me-I’m-just-very-very-very-intrigued-by-the-fact-that-there-are-two-giant-robots-inside-that-alleyway-and-neither-of-you-are-freaking-out-and-just-how-long-have-they-been-here-exactly!?!”

 

“Breathe, man.” Memo advised while placing a steady hand behind Chip’s back. “It’s okay. Just calm down, there are no more surprises after this. I think.”

 

“Hey guys,” a bright red car that Memo recognized as a late 70’s _Pontiac Firebird Trans AM_ for its garish Phoenix painted on the hood said while he rolled to the curb.

 

Chip yelped in alarm at the at the new car’s arrival.

 

“Oh,” the Pontiac reversed just an inch back. “Heeey, there fellow huuu-man. Don’t you like my nearly invisible speakers that allow me to talk while my tinted windows are up?”

 

“Drop the act, Hot Rod. The two humans already know.” ‘Bee instructed the other car.

 

“Oh, that’s okay then.” The newly arrived Hot Rod sighed dramatically. “I kept driving around this place and couldn’t find another spot to park. Primus, I thought San Francisco was bad with parking.”

 

“There’s, uh empty lots a couple blocks over.” Memo said, trying to keep his tone cool but some of his earlier anxiety still latched onto it.

 

“Humans kept pointing at me and I didn’t want to draw any attention.” Hot Rod explained.

 

“With that paintjob what else was going to happen?” ‘Bee said with a breathy laugh.

 

“Arcee said it made me look ultra gear.”**** Hot Rod sounded as though he was whining?

 

“Ultra what-now?” Memo said, confused.

 

“Okay,” Charlie waved her hands around, not longer still from what happened before. “Let’s just all chill for a sec. Can you all relate?”

 

“I, uh, have a few questions.” Chip raised a hand before quickly adding, “Actually I’m pretty sure I have all the questions and I’m gonna start with just what the Hell is going on around here?”

 

Memo watched Charlie rub her face before deadpanning, “I will explain everything.”

* * *

 

Location: Interstate North Five, CA. Time: 1218 Hours

 

“So,” Chip began while scratching away an itch on the back of his neck. “Your name is Bulkhead, you belong to the species of autonomous robotic organisms and you’re from a planet far in the Alpha Centauri system called Cybertron.”

 

“Yes.” the green robot answered via the flashing light of his dashboard. Chip was currently sitting in a modified front seat of Bulkhead’s car disguise while his wheelchair was behind in the backseats.

 

“You’re a mech, which is the Cybertronian equivalent to a male on our world and the female pronoun you use on yours is fem, femmes being the plural form and mecha for mech.”

 

“Exactly.” Bulkhead said in agreement.

 

“There’s a civil war going on your planet between your side, the Autobots, and against the Decepticons who have taken over Cybertron and plan to turn it into an Empire of Destruction against the known galaxy.”

 

“Uh-huh.”

 

“And you’ve been alive for about three million years and if there hadn’t been a war you most likely would’ve been a construction mech on Cybertron instead of a demolitions expert.”

 

“And a former Wrecker,” Bulkhead interrupted eagerly. “And now I’m doing this big project and-”

 

“Ahem.” Another voice on in the radio cut off the flighty Lamborghini, the voice belonging to the bright red car cruising along side them.

 

“Remember what General Prowl said about not disclosing information to civilians, Bulk’?”

 

“Oh,” Bulkhead deflated. “Sorry. My bad.”

 

“Just try to remember that next time, okay?” Bumblebee’s voice asked through the same radio dashboard as Bulkhead’s and Hot Rod’s did previously.

 

Chip and Bulkhead were following Charlie while she was inside Bumblebee in his Camaro form after the computer wiz and Memo had packed all their belongings needed for the weekend. Charlie was the one who suggested that she, Chip, and Memo travel separately so each of the guys could get to know the Autobots more. She was with Bumblebee since he is her guardian while Chip asked to drive with Bulkhead since he always wanted to travel in a Lamborghini (even if it turned out to be a vastly sized truck instead of a _Countach_ ). Memo, the trooper that he was, settled and went with Hot Rod.

 

“And,” Chip started to realign the subject back to where it was, “there’s this type of radiation that Charlie and Memo have been exposed to, which originated from the fuel source known as Energon your people consume and emanate out of your bodies after recharge. Now they are left vulnerable because they have enough radiation on them to be mistaken as Cybertronians.”

 

“It’s a definite yes after we checked Memo with the scanner we brought with us.”

 

“I also have some on me too,” Chip said resignedly as he recalled getting inspected before the drive commenced. 

 

“Not as much as them but because you’ve been living with Memo for over a month you have some on you,” Charlie said through the radio. Chip was told that the radio on each Autobot was capable of communicating through a wireless link, also known as a commlink. It was similar to mobile handheld phones that people like Chip’s father used. Hopefully they didn’t produce the same type of radiation like a cellular phone did. Probably just En-Radiation like the Autobots did with everything else.

 

“But the good news is that the Autobots, that’s me, Bumblebee, Hot Rod and a buncha others are here to look after your planet,” Bulkhead said optimistically.

 

“Because there’s an extremely high chance the Decepticons will arrive here on Earth.” Chip finished with a sense of dread.

 

“We’re hoping that won’t be for a very long time,” Bumblebee stated.

 

“But haven’t they sent a few soldiers already?”

“Those are Eukarians. From what we’ve gathered the first gang was sent by the Decepticon Starscream while the last one was sent here by someone else we don’t know yet.”

 

“And Starscream is the leader of the Decepticons?”

 

“Nope,” Bulkhead corrected. “He’s commander of the ‘cons’ Aerial Fleet. Megatron is the real mech in charge.”

 

“Mega-what?”

 

“No, not Megawatt, Mega _tron_.” Hot Rod interjected. “Megatron is only the baddest of the Decepticons. Not to mention super huge.”

 

“How would you know that Hot Rod?” Charlie chimed in.

 

“Be-because, he just is.” Hot Rod demurred with a stutter.

 

“You never have actually seen him before, have you? And if you haven’t how can you be sure that he is even as big as you say he is?”

 

“….’Bee you’re human is being mean to me.” Hot Rod snitched even if they were all on the same radio frequency.

 

“I believe the phrase you’re looking for Rod is that ‘I got burned,’” ‘Bee crowed, showing no remorse towards his friend getting verbally served.

 

“Well fine, scrap-head. If Megatron somehow holds you at gunpoint in the future don’t expect me to save your slaggin’ piece of junk aft.”

 

“Whoooa,” Charlie and the other Autobots called out.

 

“Did you just use the j-word on ‘Bee, Rod?” Charlie accused.

 

“We’re totally in public, mech.” Bulkhead scolded. 

 

“C’mon, I’ve heard her use it the other day.” Hot Rod defended.

 

“She gets a pass,” ‘Bee responded bluntly.

 

“Is the word junk really that offensive to your race?” Chip asked Bulkhead. He then heard the green truck and the others chuckle.

 

“No, it’s just an inside joke the four of us have. The glyph aft is actually a lot worse.”

 

“Don’t forget slag too,” Hot Rod said.  

 

“Aft’s like their term for ass.” Charlie explained.

 

“Oh…What does slag mean?” Chip asked.

 

“I… I don’t really know.” Bulkhead admitted. “It can mean a lot of things to us.”

 

Charlie then cut in and said, “Personally I think it’s a placeholder for curse words in general. Like it can mean crap, shit, Hell, screw you, go to Hell. You name it.”

 

“But I thought the word pit was their term for Hell?”

 

“Yeah,” Bumblebee agreed grudgingly. “Kinda. I’ve heard some ‘bots use the phrase ‘the Inferno’ but I guess it depends on who you ask.”

 

“And there’s a Heaven for your race?” Memo brought to mind.

 

“It’s called the Well of Allsparks, right ‘Bee?” Charlie said and then sought the yellow Camaro for a confirmation.

 

“Just like that, Charlie.”

 

“Is your version of God a bunch of wires?” Memo asked randomly.*****

 

“No offense dude, but that sounds ludicrous.” Chip rebuked.

 

“And inaccurate, our deity is called Primus.” Bulkhead verified.

 

“Do you know what Primus is Charlie?” Chip heard Memo ask.

 

“No.” she simply answered. “Say, ‘Bee do you know?”

 

“Uhhh, no. Not really.” the yellow robot admitted. “Bulk’ Roddy?”

 

“Nope.” Hot Rod stressed out on the ‘p’ in nope.

 

“Nuh-uh. Sorry.” Bulkhead apologized.

 

“So none of you have any idea what your god is like?” Charlie sounded dissatisfied.

 

“Do you know what yours looks like?” Hot Rod countered.

 

Charlie wisely clamped shut after that.

 

“According to legend, Primus was the creator of Cybertron and made the original Twelve Primes.” Bumblebee described. “That’s as far as I know about him.”

 

“The Twelve Primes?” Chip echoed with interest.

 

“They’re were the predecessors who ruled Cybertron before they left it in the servos of the current Dynasty of Primes, ‘bots who aren’t immortal like they were.”

 

“Says the Autobot that’s been alive for over two million years.” Chip pointed out with a light laugh.

 

“We live for a long time but that doesn’t mean we live forever.” Bumblebee countered.

 

“Yeah,” Bulkhead concurred. “There are also plenty of ‘bots I know that’ve lived longer than me. Like Ironhide, Brawn, Optimus Prime-”

 

“-and the Hatchet.” Hot Rod snickered before Bumblebee shushed him, causing the spectacled young man to fully laugh in amusement.

 

Chip adjusted his glasses before asking, “So how long is the normal lifespan of your species then?”

 

The three Autobots became silent for a brief minute before Hot Rod answered.

 

“Nobot really knows since the wars our planet keeps starting kills a lotta ‘bots. We have no idea how long a Cybertronian can live before their Spark naturally gives out.”

 

The cheerful atmosphere from before turned grim very quickly.

 

“Hey, so why don’t you guys tell Memo and Chip more about what units of time you use and compare it to ours? They still need to know how long that Energon Radiation would stay on us normally if you leave Earth.” Charlie hurriedly suggested.

 

Slowly the Autobots halfheartedly started to take turns telling Chip and Memo the difference between an orbital cycle and a stellar cycle and many more Cybertronian jargon. The previously dismal mood forgotten for the rest of the drive up to Brighton Falls.

* * *

  

Location: Brighton Falls [Outside City Limits], CA. Time: 1827 Hours

 

Evading Sheriff Lock reminded Tripp of avoiding barrels thrown by the gorilla in _Donkey Kong_ sometimes. No matter how far he would go around the city a cop wouldn’t be too far behind or in front. They probably assumed he was loitering somehow. Okay, yeah he would loiter sometimes but he never bothered or hurt anyone like Bowser did every time he kidnapped Princess Toadstool and ruined the Mushroom Kingdom. Not that he ever made that comparison aloud with his friends around. None of them would ever understand his secret obsession with video games, especially Tina as she would much rather hang out at the Boardwalk or go to some mall outside in one of the bigger towns.

 

Speaking of which.

 

“Triiipp,” the blonde bemonaded next to him in the front seat. “I thought you were gonna take us someplace cool.”

 

“Yeah,” one of her friends said in the back of his orange _1971 240Z Datsun_. Sometimes Tripp was grateful (and lucky) for owning two cars thanks to his old man’s high paying job. After that race with ‘diver girl’ or Charlie Watson if Chip remembered correctly his beloved Camaro was still in the shop.

 

“I said we might.” Tripp reminded the girls while pretending to sound easy-going and not at all annoyed with them at this point. In all honesty he just wanted to drive around for fun with no destination in mind until Tina spotted him a half an hour ago by a hair salon and convinced him to let her friends join them.

 

Tripp mentally kicked himself for subconsciously driving that way.

 

“Why not you like take us to the mall?” the girl named Meg suggested.

 

“Didn’t you three go there a couple hours ago?” Tripp noted, annoyance almost breaking his cool pretense.

 

Tina’s typically flirty demeanor faltered for a second before it returned. “Well if you didn’t want to do anything with me- _us_ -then maybe my friends and I shouldn’t have come with you.”

 

Tripp was about to point out that it was her idea in the first place when he spotted a familiar looking yellow Camaro with black stripes. It stopped at the other end of the intersection he just arrived in. Behind the muscle car two other distinct looking cars appeared, a moss green colored Lamborghini truck and a red Pontiac Firebird with three headers on its sides.

 

“Is that Watson?” Tripp heard Tina’s other friend, Wynonna, in the back mutter.  

 

“She’s the one that totally wrecked your other car,” Tina leaned over the dashboard to point at the Camaro, deliberately showing off how short her top was. Other times Tripp couldn’t help himself but stare but for some reason he couldn’t at that moment.

 

“She didn’t wreck my car,” Tripp asserted. “It got scraped against the guardrail for a couple seconds. It still runs, just needs a repaint is all.”

 

“She’s always going off somewhere.” Tripp heard Tina muttered before she made an unexpected proposal. “Let’s follow her.”

 

“Why?” Tripp was not in the least big interested in shadowing Charlie Watson. No matter how good she apparently was at street racing.

 

“Aren’t you the last bit curious about where she and those other cars are going?”

 

“Not exact-” Tripp didn’t get to finish because Tina’s friends then started to agree that tailing the female mechanic sounded like fun. Tripp tried to voice his disagreements a third time but Tina cut him off and did that childish pout and whiny voice again to try and change his mind. Tripp started to feel a headache coming on.

 

If doing what Tina wanted got her off his back for once Trip would find a way to apologize to Charlie Watson later.

* * *

 

“Okay ….” Memo trailed off as he tried to come up with a new Cybertronian word to learn its term. He then remembered a word from a frivolous conversation he couldn’t think of what the topic was. “What does frag mean?”

 

“I’ll give you a hint, Memo. It’s a four-letter word. Can you think of another four lettered word that starts with an ‘f’?” Charlie asked, pretending to sound like one of those human cast members from _Sesame Street_.

 

Memo felt his cheeks warm up after he put two and two together. “’Kay, you don’t need to say anything more.”

 

He became a bit mortified when he heard Hot Rod and Chip laugh.

 

“What’s the matter Memo?” Chip laughed, very amused. “Did you mom tell you never to say f-”

 

“Fields withdrawn mecha and stay calm,” ‘Bee commanded rapidly. “We have a car tailing us.”

 

“Is it a ‘con or one of ours?” Bulkhead asked in a hushed whisper.

 

Memo and the other humans waited on baited breath to hear ‘Bee’s assessment.

 

“It’s non-sentient.” ‘Bee said with a sigh or vent as Charlie had corrected Memo on earlier.

 

“Isn’t that Tripp’s car?” Memo outwardly remarked while peering through Hot Rod’s rearview mirror at the orange Datsun that was behind them.

 

“Is there anyone else inside with him?” Charlie asked directly to the three Autobots.

 

“Four humans are within the vehicle, including the driver.” Bulkhead announced. “One looks like a male of the human species while the other three are female.”

 

“Is one of them a blonde with too much makeup on, a curly haired brunette, and an Asian?” Charlie spoke with an unenthusiastic air.

 

“Yes, how did you know?” Bulkhead wondered in amazement.

 

“Of-freaking-course it’s Tina and her mean girlfriends.” Memo heard Charlie curse under her breath.

 

“Um, are they people that I should know or worry about?” Chip called out, bringing himself into the conversation.

 

“Imagine every bitchy mall rat stereotype you can think of, with parents who spoil her way too much and you have Tina Lark.” Charlie growled with great animosity.

 

“She used to bully Charlie and other kids back when they were still in high school together,” Memo went on to explain to Chip, Bulkhead and Hot Rod.

 

“Every time I try to do something in Brighton, Tina’s there to ruin my fun by reminding me how rich and popular she is.” The mechanic groused.

 

“She also said a really bad thing about Charlie’s father months ago.” Bumblebee said in an equally angry tone.

 

“Wait, didn’t Charlie’s creator die tragically?” Hot Rod asked in a quite voice before erupting, “Why the frag would anyone mock somebody for losing their creator? Let’s go slag that… that prick.”

 

‘Bee vented before saying, “Charlie, Memo and I already tried to get revenge on Tina but it didn’t work.”

 

“Some people just don’t know when to quit.” Chip heard Charlie murmur.

 

The three of them continued driving for a minute until Chip spoke up, “I don’t know if this is going to sound weird but I think that car following us.”

 

“You’re not talking crazy, Chip. Tripp is pursuing us.”

  
  
“Charlie,” ‘Bee buzzed with concern, “if Tripp keeps going after us we’ll be leading him and Tina to the base.”

 

“I know,” the eighteen-year-old said firmly. “But I don’t know if they know about the old drive-in being there so we need to think something fast to shake ‘em off somehow.”

 

“The road up ahead has a turn on the left,” Memo said as he saw ‘Bee’s car form eventually approach a fork in the road.

 

“Won’t that just make us go in a long circle, though?” ‘Bee asked in confusion.

 

“But it’ll give me plenty of time to go get some help,” Hot Rod volunteered himself and an unwitting Memo.

 

“What?” was all the young man could say before Hot Rod took control of the wheel and zoomed around Bumblebee and headed further up the road.

 

“Hope those seatbelts are workin’ for ya!” Hot Rod shouted over his revving engine.

 

“Aaaah!” Memo covered his eyes. “Tell me when it’s over!”

 

“Wimp.” Hot Rod griped but did gradually slow down to going below fifty miles per hour as opposed to eighty. The two of them traveled on a straight line until Hot Rod jerked into a right and entered a channel of trees that opened up to the no longer abandoned drive-in. Memo had less than a few seconds to be in awe of the alien technology when he was then face to face with several large robots of various colors ranging from red, pink, orange and green, a literal red, white and blue, and one white with red and green highlights. If Memo remembered Charlie’s stories correctly their names were Ironhide, Arcee, Brawn, Ultra Magnus and Wheeljack.

 

“Lieutenant Ironhide, where’s General Prowl?” Hot Rod asked the red Cybertronian with a wide glass windshield over his chest.

 

“He’s out with Prime an’ Jazz lookin’ fer a place fer that barbed-q we’re suppose ta be having in a few days.” the Southern sounding Ironhide answered in a untroubled manner.

 

“That’s bar-be _-_ que, ‘Hide.” Arcee rectified.

 

“Ah,” Ironhide looked to the ground, embarrassed. “Right.”

 

Hot Rod vented in frustration.  

 

The tallest of the group, the American flag colored Ultra Magnus came the nearest Hot Rod. “Private Hot Rod,” he began. “Is there a reason behind your bout of distress? I’ve also took noticed that neither Calvary Scout Bumblebee nor Private Bulkhead are with you. Also, greetings to the small human inside your vehicle.” He automatically waved at Memo.

 

“Hi,” Memo cleared his throat to prevent it from cracking. “I’m Memo.”

 

“My designation is Ultra Magnus… former Second-In-Command to Optimus Prime.” Ultra Magnus’ stoic expression cracked for a second. Memo had no time to register the change when the pink femm pushed herself in front of the mecha.

 

“Are they in trouble?” Arcee asked Hot Rod and Memo. “Is ‘Bee, Bulkhead and Charlie safe?”

 

“A human vehicle is in pursuit of them.” Hot Rod finally revealed.

 

“If it’s come dirty ‘con they’re gonna answer to me.” Brawn exclaimed.

 

“No, Brawn there’s a human behind the wheel. All of us checked,” Hot Rod promised.

 

The orange and green mech frowned. “Nothing fun’s happened since Yosemite.”

 

Memo raised an eyebrow in confusion. Brawn thought the time Charlie and her family were almost mauled by a robotic bear as fun?

 

“I wanted to use General Prowl’s alt-mode to scare the teenagers away before they figure out where ‘Bee, Charlie and Bulkhead are going.”

 

“How far are they from here?” Ironhide demanded.

 

“About ten Earth klicks from here.”

 

The red mech’s faceplate twisted sourly. “That’s too close fer comfort.”

 

“Can’t you call them on that comm. system you have?” Memo asked. “Or ask Sector 7 for help?”

 

“Sector 7 is with them,” Ironhide explained with an agitated vent. “We could call ‘em but by the time Prime or Prowl arrive it might be later than we want.”  

 

“I think I have an idea,” the mech with fins that glowed when he talked offered.

 

“It better not be shrinking the base down so the humans can’t find us,” Ironhide warned.

 

The others mumbled similar sentiments.

 

Wheeljack’s optics blinked before he said, “Okay, I have _another_ idea.”   

* * *

 

“How many more times are they gonna keep driving in a circle?” Tina complained as the Camaro and Lamborghini took the same left turn for the third time in a row.

 

“Maybe if we just leave them alone they’ll stop doing it.” Tripp muttered audibly but knew perfectly well that Tina would have disregarded the thought.

 

“But then we won’t know where they’re going,” Tina chimed sweetly as though it would soothe Tripp in some way. “I swear that Watson must be hiding something.”

 

“And I still don’t get why you care what’s she’s doing?” Tripp proclaimed at long last. Sure he’ll admit that Charlie Watson was a great diver (enough to beat his little sister at least) and almost defeated him in a race but did those really warrant such a bizarre obsession from his girlfriend. A part of him was glad that Tina never acted that way around him.

 

“Hey what’s-” Wynonna had that much to say when Tripp turned around a corner and saw the entire squad of Brighton Falls’ finest men in blue and their cruisers blocking the road.

 

“The cops?” Meg gasped.

 

“How did they show up-”

 

“Screw this scene, I’m booking it!” Tripp interrupted Tina as he quickly turned his car wheel and drove in reverse.

 

Tripp didn’t ask questions and chose to bail out of there. He knew he hadn’t done anything against the law recently (i.e. street racing) but he still didn’t want to press his luck.

* * *

 

Less than five seconds after Tripp left the police force’s bodies and cars began to flicker. Not long after that they somehow became pixilated and their images wavered. Then from underneath the cars and people Wheeljack’s Lancia Stratos form pushed them up, making them appear wrinkled. Wheeljack transformed into his root mode and kneeled to the ground. He pulled at something and the cops and vehicles rolled up together as though it they were part of a large curtain shade. Behind the illusion were the Autobots and three humans.

 

“Phew, I’m glad dat cloaking device held out for long as it could.” Wheeljack vented as he swiped the imaginary coolant off his forehelm.

 

“I can’t believe you never did a field test before now.” Ultra Magnus said, aghast.

 

“Let’s just be glad that Wheeljack’s idea worked.” The pink femm stated with a relieved vent.

 

“Hey, it’s not like this was da same one I ‘ad before.” Wheeljack said defensively.

 

“You have another big sheet that camouflages your surroundings?” Chip asked sounding impressed.

 

Wheeljack lowered his helm. “I did and I tested dat one a dozen times before it got… lost.”

 

“You mean misplaced.” Arcee stated with a tired vent. She and the others have heard him say time and time again about him losing some piece of equipment or a new invention only for Wheeljack to find it a couple groons later.

 

“Right,” Wheeljack said slowly before he asked the others to help him fold the fabric.

* * *

  

“Did you guys see those two cars behind Watson’s?” Meg asked long after Tripp succeeded in escaping from the police.

 

Wynonna snickered. “The one with the red paint isn’t subtle at all.”

 

“Yeah, like a literal Flamer.” Meg stated.

 

“A with a Flamer-bird on the hood.” Tina joked before giggling at her ‘clever’ word play.

 

Right after she said that the car stopped abruptly.

 

Tina winced at the sudden halt and looked over to see that her boyfriend’s foot was on the break. “Trip, what are you-”

 

“Get out.”

 

“What?”

 

“Did I stutter?” he asked sarcastically, his icy voice sending the wrong kind of shivers down Tina’s spine. “I told you to leave. That means all of you.” Tripp stared pointedly at Meg and Wynonna as well.

 

“But it’s like a two mile walk.” Meg protested.

 

“Well, then you better start getting a move on.” Tripp said mockingly. “Now!” he shouted when no one made an attempt to leave.

 

Both of Tina’s girlfriends winced at the young man’s sudden mood swing before they both made a grab of the doors and exited the car.

 

“Triiip,” Tina honeyed his name in that way she knew he liked and made a faux pout for good measure. “You can’t be serious. We were just having some fun at the car with the gay paintjob.”

 

“And that meant the person driving it was gay?” Tripp asked in a demanding tone.

 

“Why do you care about that all of the sudden?” Tina stood back

 

“I’ve always cared, Tina. You just never bothered asking me anything unless it had something to do with you,” he rightfully accused before saying the one thing the richest girl in town never heard anyone say to her before.

 

“I don’t want to be with you anymore.” Tripp declared. “We’re through.”

 

Tina felt her body go numb and didn’t even realize she got out of the car because of it.

 

With that said the man removed his foot of the break pedal and sped down the road until Tina could only see him as a speck.

 

“What the Hell was that all about?” Meg demanded Tina to answer.

 

“I knew we shouldn’t have followed Watson.” Wynonna reproached with a heavy sigh.

 

“It was your idea too,” Meg indicated with a glare.

 

“Yeah, well, at least my hair isn’t frizzy like yours.”

 

As the two airheads threw insults each other Tina started thinking to herself.

 

Tina couldn’t understand where everything went wrong? It seemed like ever since that night her old car was vandalized her life began to go downhill. Everyone at school laughed when they heard what happened, the people she used to mock weren’t afraid of her anymore and even her parents started complaining that she was spending too much time shopping. Some of her former victims would later on talk back to her. Including Watson. Tina wracked her brain and came to an unsettling conclusion.

 

Her misfortune started the day she insulted that crappy Volkswagen that grease monkey Watson used to own. Everything was somehow tied to that girl.

 

Tina was going to find out why.

* * *

  

Location: Autobots Base, CA.

 

“And here we are.” Charlie announced with her hands up to gesture at the still unseen base. It was sunset by the time the Autobots and three humans had arrived and even though Memo had technically been there before Chip could tell his roommate was still in astonishment of the place.

 

Chip couldn’t blame him. As Memo helped Chip retrieve his wheelchair the young man with glasses could no longer prevent his jaw from dropping. In all his years of being a sci-fi geek none of it truly prepared him for all the technological advances in display.

 

Charlie caught Chip’s reverence and smiled. “Enjoying the view?”

 

The only thing Chip’s mind was capable of doing was responding with a nod. “If this is what the Autobots’ refugee camp is like I can only imagine what their home planet resembles.”

 

“A lot like your planet but bigger and covered in metal,” the white mech with red and green stripes spoke idly.

 

“Really?” Chip gaped.

 

The masked mech averted his gaze before acknowledging, “Well, maybe not exactly like yours but close enough. Same oxygen at least.”

 

“How does that work if there’s no organic life on your world?” Chip fervently asked. “No, wait, what is the exact ratio of Cybertron compared to Earth’s. How does is its orbital resonance differ from-”

 

“Slow down,” Memo calmed Chip the second time that day. “We have the whole weekend to ask the giant space robots anything.”

 

“But not everything,” the red and white mech that Charlie said was named Ratchet declared. His optics flickered for some reason Chip couldn’t fully comprehend and didn’t pay enough attention to second-guess it.

 

“I thought Charlie said she was going to bring one human here. Why are there two?” the medic demanded.

 

“Haven’t you heard? Humans multiply,” was Hot Rod’s only response before shrugging noncommittally.******

 

“Memo’s roommate found out about you guys and we found out he had En-Rad on him.” Bumblebee explained.

 

“I was going to check if he had radiation on him anyway after Memo mentioned to me about having a roommate,” Charlie stated.

 

“Sorry,” the computer wiz apologized to the oddly shaped-helmed mech while adjusting his glasses. “I ramble when I get excited.”

 

“The sign of any great genius really,” the Autobot winked an optic pleasantly as his audial fins glowed.

 

“Can I ask you one question?”

 

“You just did, but I can let ya ask another one.” the alien robot teased while everyone else groaned and rolled their eyes or optics at his attempt at humor.

 

Chip laughed to endear himself to the mech. “What’s your name?”

 

“My name’s Wheeljack, the Autobot’s head of Research and Development. What’s your designation?”

 

“I’m Billy Chase. All my friends call me Chip because I like fiddling with micro _chips_ in my spare time.” He offered his hand to the scientist. *******

 

“Friends call me Jackie.” Wheeljack accepted Chip’s hand with a digit and the two of them shook.

 

“We only call you that sometimes because it’s hard to get your attention when we use your actual name.” Bumblebee joked.

 

“Especially when your latest experiment catches on fire,” the smallest mech in the group added.

 

“No such thing has happed at all… today.” Wheeljack said confidently at first before reluctantly revealing the date causing everyone but Memo and Chip to laugh.

 

“Should we be worried?” Memo glanced nervously at Charlie.

 

“You’ll get used to how strange things happen here,” the mechanic attempted to reassure him.

 

“I expect you must have a good fire safety system on hand.” Chip alluded with intrigue.

 

The red mech huffed out a pleased sounding noise. “The best. Good enough ta keep us protected fer when we do those fireworks this Monday too. It’ll be a real blast.”

 

A few of the other Autobots shared similar opinions at how much they were they were looking forward to the upcoming holiday.

 

“I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, Memo, but I’m glad Charlie invited us to her barbeque.” Chip whispered to Memo a little while later as Charlie and ‘Bee were giving them a tour of the base.

 

“Me too. Just remember not to tell anyone else about this.”

 

Chip rolled his blue eyes. “Aw, shoot, I totally planned to go to the school’s newspaper after term began and tell them all about this.”

 

Memo shook his head at Chip’s quip while ‘Bee chuckled in front of them. 

 

“I might allow an article leak if you make sure they take pictures of my good side.” ‘Bee joked while Charlie pretended to look annoyed and playfully nudged him mid-chassis.

 

“And mine.” Hot Rod grinned while tapping at his firebird-plated chest.

 

“Don’t forget me,” Bulkhead added with equal amusement.

 

“You’ll need a fold out spread for your whole frame, mech.” Hot Rod teased right before the green mech shoved him lightly, which led to both of them giving each other good-humored punches in the shoulders.

 

Many things amazed Chip that afternoon and evening but what left him the most marveled had to be the sight before him.

 

Who knew beings from two different worlds could form such strong bonds.

 

**End of Old & New Friends Arc**

* * *

  

 **Q-A** : Goodbye Old & New Friends Arc/Chapter 15 and say hello Fourth of July Arc everyone! Technically that arc starts in the next chapter but you can count at least the second half of this chapter part of it.

Well, a lot of you kept asking me when Memo was going to appear and I delivered, but I bet none of you guessed that Chip Chase would appear along side our churro-selling resident friend zone. I hope you like how I wrote Chip in this. I’m keeping him as a classic computer nerd but at the same time made him a bit sassy. XD I wanted Chip and Memo to be in the story so that Charlie could have some human friends and share a paralleled dynamic that ‘Bee has with Bulk’ and Rod. I thought that would be fun. I also thought to myself back when I was working on the concept of the story that if Tripp was friends with Spike I felt it would be a neat idea if I did something like that with Memo and have Chip as his own friend/roommate. Speaking of Tripp, how did you feel about that little POV I did with him? I haven’t read many stories with him in it so I thought I could try something to flesh him out and make him more than just the movie’s designated pretty boy and the OTHER romantic false lead for Charlie.

(We all ~~know~~ wish who she’ll end up with. *Cough* Charbee forever! *Cough* X3).

 You’re all probably wondering why Tripp was so upset about the no-so funny gay joke Tina and her friends made. I won’t say why because that’ll be explained in the story proper much later on. It did lead to Tripp deciding that he’s had enough and finally broke things off with Tina. But we won’t be seeing the end of her now that she’s figured out something bad. But don’t worry she isn’t going to appear regularly if that’s what you’re worried about.

I’m sorry if this wasn’t as plot heavy as the last one but I wanted to write a breather before we moved onto the next arc and because I felt that there needed to be a chapter where Charlie shot the breeze with the Autobots, Chip and Memo about just how weird their universe is. :)

I really hope none of you were offended by the gay jokes. I also don’t think that way about the Pontiac Firebird. I really love how its design is so late 70s and early 80s. :D I mean who doesn’t think of that car or a DaLorean when they imagine 80s cars? XD

 

References:

 

*Rodney Bingenheimer is a well-known DJ from “The World Famous” FM K-ROQ  located in Pasadena, California. He worked there from 1976-2017 and was a frontrunner in introducing a lot of the latest New Wave and Punk songs from bands like _Duran Duran, Talking Heads_ , _The Ramones, The Go-Gos_ , and _The Runaways_ just to name a few. If you wanted to get famous and fast getting your music played on K-ROQ was the best way to go back in the 70s and 80s.

 

**A callback to another deleted scene from Bumblebee where Charlie told Memo about the Optimus Prime message she saw and he says it reminds him of GoBots, which she did dismiss as just a cartoon for kids. Memo, being Memo, quickly agreed at how lame the idea sounded. Poor guy, he tries so hard. XD

 

***Bulkhead’s Earth based alt-mode from TFA. ^-^ I love referencing that show so much you have no idea guys.

 

**** Oh look, a reference from Beast Wars. I know a lot of people like comparing Cheetor to Bumblebee (probably because of the black and yellow colors) but I always thought the cat was closer to Hot Rod, personality wise. Bumblebee, at least in the G1 cartoon, always grabbed me as someone a lot more humble and not that overeager to impress others but still a friendly ‘bot. G1!Bumblebee has the best personality imho. TFP is a close second. ^_^' I’m not ashamed to admit that.

 

***** Another deleted scene had two Sector 7 workers (one with the nametag Coker and the other she called “Dumbass”) discussed the technicalities behind Shatter and Dropkick and “Dumbass” wondered if their god was made up of wires. XDD There are so many reasons why that line made me laugh.

 

******And now a line from TFP because I clearly have a problem with how many of them I keep putting in this story. I think I need to seek out some help. :]

 

*******Fun fact: Chip Chase’s first name was supposed to be Billy, according to the original script from the fifth episode of The Transformers titled, _Roll For It_. Obviously that wasn’t the case. What’s even more interesting, at least from what I got from TFWiki is that in the original plans for the 1984 show was that the main human allies were going to be two friends named Eddie Fairchild and Matt Conroy. Eddie was originally envisioned as what Spike Witwicky would later become while Matt was to be an “older brother” type character. There was even an idea to have Eddie be disabled so he would be more dependent on Matt and the Autobots. Obviously that didn’t happen and we instead got the Witwickys as the main humans and Chip would show up as an occasional ally for the Autobots.

 

By the way did anyone get the Tangled reference? ;)

 

Songs used:

 

Chapter title: Saturday by Chicago

 

~Please give comments, kudos and subscribe. I’ll answer any questions to the best of my abilities. :D And be sure to…

 

Keep on Writin’ and Rockin’

 


	18. Through The Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there are discussions on the properties of Hot Dogs and Hot Rod’s past is expanded upon.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own _The Transformers_. It solely belongs to _Hasbro_ and _Paramount_. The song referenced in this chapter belongs to its respected producers/singers.

 

 **Warnings** for this chapter are:

Swearing, mentions of death in fires,

and slight PTSD ahead

 

“I know you're afraid of what you feel

You still need time to heal

And I can help if you'll only let me try”

\- “Through The Fire” by Chaka Khan

* * *

  

Location: “Hide and Seek” Beach, CA. Date: July 4, 1988

 

“What in the Nation of Tarn are those things?” Ironhide asked an equally intrigued Jazz.

 

The visored mech rested his chin on his servo, contemplating on an answer. “I’m not so sure, ‘Hide.”

 

“Haven’t ya been observin’ humans fer months now?”

 

“Doesn’t make me a full-fledged expert on them, mah mech.”

 

“Say ‘Bee isn’t there anything you know about those?” Brawn glanced over at the black and yellow scout. “Weren’t you with Charlie and her creator when they went to purchase those things?” He made sure to purposely point at the item in question so that the younger ‘bot would not be confused with something else.

 

‘Bee’s round optics narrowed as he tried to determine the obtained objects’ identity. From within two transparent bags made of plastic were a dozen small cylindrical products made from the organic substance humans commonly referred to as meat. The exactly name of said meat was a conundrum the grouped Autobots were facing.

 

“I think Ratchet knows,” ‘Bee answered. “If anybot knows anything about what humans eat for fuel it would be him.”

 

Ironhide grunted and crossed his arms in frustration. “He’s still back at the base with Wheeljack. Prime just left ta wrangle him fer the little light show they’re doin’ later ta’night.”

 

“Who’s going to look after the base?” Bumblebee raised an optical ridge.

 

“Hot Rod’s volunteered to be base-bound for the whole time.” Jazz explained to the Camaro. He had removed his servo from his chin and then mused, “I’m kinda surprised, though. I figured he’d be the mech not wanting to miss out on a party. I even tried suggesting other ‘bots could take shifts so he wouldn’t be completely absent but he insisted on staying the whole time.”

 

‘Bee began to wonder the same thing quietly until the Dodge Caravan spoke up, ending his processing.

 

“Doesn’t matter,” Ironhide brusquely pushed the topic aside. “It’ll be good practice fer when he officially joins the unit in a Deca-cycle. Magnus will be on ‘Hot Rod watch,’” the Weapons’ Specialist made air quotes, “ta make sure the kid ain’t way over his helm.”

 

Jazz did a quick nod in approval. “I’m glad Mags’ got somethin’ to do after Prowl was reinstated as Second.”

 

“Now back to the original topic,” Brawn redirected them to the package of meat rolls. “What the Pit is it?”

 

“Where’s the-oh there it is.” The four Autobots turned and saw Charlie approaching them with a look of determination. She turned up to their little huddle on the parking lot next to the beach and grabbed the plastic bag without a second nano-klik.

 

“Mom totally forgot she left the hotdogs here,” she said, gesturing at the human-sized wooden picnic table that the four Cybertronians had crowded around.

 

‘Bee and the other Autobots shared collective vents of shock. Except for Brawn, he merely stiffened his frame.

 

“If I had known you’re planning to consume dogs I wouldn’t have agreed to helping your and Sally shop earlier.” Bumblebee said, his tone aghast.

 

Charlie held a nonplussed look briefly before she laughed. “No ‘Bee, these aren’t made from dog meat. It’s strictly pork. I made sure Mom read the label.” She gave him a very serious stare when she said ‘made sure.’

 

“Then why are them varmints called little doggies then?” Ironhide demanded with an equally stern poise.

 

“Because they look like them?” Charlie replied with a shrug. “Just look at Conan over there,” she thumbed behind her shoulder to where her brother was playing in the sand with the white and brown-patched dog. She was correct that four legged organic creature shared a similar frame with the packaged meat.

 

“Oh.” the four Autobots said in unison.

 

“Hotdogs can also be called wieners and frankfurters but most Americans stopped calling them that during World War I and II because those were words from Austria and Germany respectfully.”

 

“Aw,” Ironhide nodded. “It be like Autobots stopped calling oil cakes by their original name, Kaon Crepes.”

 

“I thought we did stopped calling them that.” Brawn stated with slight puzzlement.

 

“That was supposed ta be an example.” 

 

“Hey Charlie.” The mechanic and ‘Bee turned to see Memo and Chip come up from the sand. Memo was wearing a _Nike_ t-shirt over his maroon colored swim trunks that had small splashes of other colors and black swirls and lines overlapping on one another. Meanwhile, Chip wore a shirt with the name for a film ‘Bee hadn’t seen yet called _The Last Starfighter_ and had on trunks that’s fabric appeared to be three stripes of black, white and blue next to one another.

 

 _I don’t think I’ll ever understand the clothes styles humans wear._ ‘Bee thought as he secretly examined the outfits the two humans wore.

“Hey,” Charlie waved casually. “I found the hotdogs for my mom. She forgot that she left them here.” She rolled her eyes in amusement while pointing at the table again.

 

“Yeah, your mom asked us to tell you to just bring them to the parking lot since Burns and your step-father has the grill set up there.” Chip instructed.

 

“Okay.” Charlie turned to the Autobots and thanked them for ‘protecting’ the meat for her.

 

“It’s no big deal.” Bumblebee beamed while sounding humble. The other mecha’s fields brushed against his with the projections of mild amusement and one pretending to tease him about being a kiss up. ‘Bee could only vent at their jests.

 

“Is that wheelchair working okay for you, Chip?” the Camaro attempted to move the conversation elsewhere.

 

“Oh, it’s great!” the young man praised. He and everyone else present look at the metallic chair with think cushions and enlarged four wheels. “I really like the fact that I can move without needing someone else to push me.”

 

“Wheeljack outdid himself this time with adding the motor,” Jazz acknowledged as ‘Bee glanced at the back of the chair with said motor in place and connected to the back wheels via wires.

 

“I still can’t believe it took him half a day to build it.” Memo said in amazement.

 

“Believe it.” Charlie said with confirmation. “You’d be surprised to hear what else he’s done in less than a day.”

 

‘Bee instinctively rubbed his newly added Stinger blade and then stared at Charlie’s angry little bumblebee charm that was still attached to her necklace. The trinket still retained the same design but had been modified after she complained to Wheeljack about the major recoil she sustained when she used the charm’s ESD blast to confront Polar Claw with.

 

“I hope he can make it down here.” Brawn said with anticipation.

 

“That’s strange to hear you say that. Considering your previous experiences with him.” Jazz chuckled knowingly.

 

“If there’s anybot I know that can make better explosions than me it would be him.” Brawn stated with a wild look in his optics.

 

“We won’t be doing anything until the sun goes down.” Charlie reminded the overeager Demolitions Expert. “For now we’re just here to hang out, enjoy the heat, the waves, the food.”

 

“Charlie!” Sally’s voice rang loudly. “Where are the wieners for Ron to cook?”

 

“I’m getting them!” the mechanic shouted back. She sighed while looking at the meat appallingly. “After working thirteen months in the food industry I can’t stand the sight of hotdogs anymore. Even if these are made with real meat I’m so glad that Agent Burns brought chicken and beef to cook later.”

 

She then hurried off before her mother could call her a second time.

 

“So does your race only consume Energon or is there other genus’ that you can eat?” Chip asked a klik after Charlie left.

 

Bumblebee, Jazz and Brawn were the ones that answered that they could only ingest Energon while Ironhide disagreed.

 

“Really? Is there something ya need to tell us, ‘Hide?” Jazz gave the red Dodge Caravan a somewhat worried stare.

 

Ironhide puffed some air out of his cheeks and sheepishly responded, “’Ave you ever been stuck in the Sonic Canyons with nothing ta fuel on and there were all of these turbofoxes…”

 

Jazz raised a servo, before cutting Ironhide off. “You know what mech? I don’t think I wanna know anymore.”

* * *

 

Location: Autobots Base [The Barracks], CA. Time: 1115 Hours

 

Hot Rod seldom thought of himself as a vain mech but he had to admit that he looked good. The sharpshooter could hardly take his optics from his reflection in the glass and kept staring at his screaming… pigeon? Scrap, he forgot what the name for his _1979 Trans Am Pontiac Firebird’s_ decal. The only reason he could even remember the name of his alt-mode was thanks to Charlie drilling it into his helm for days on end because he got it wrong repeatedly, according to her. She also told him how lucky he was to have scanned a _10th Anniversary_ in California and went on and on about all of these features like a special ‘V8’ engine, his form’s type having been a pace car for races, dozens of more details that nearly bored Hot Rod to offline. All he cared about was if he had a good paintjob, if he was still fast, and if his spoiler went well with the screaming hummingbird or whatever.

 

Charlie bluntly answered yes to all of his questions after he got the car form but he later heard her grumbled under her breath about how some people underappreciated the things they had.

 

 _Heh, as long as I have a fast engine and good tires, I’m golden._ Hot Rod thought while smirking at his golden colored spoiler and watched the wings fluttered.

 

He placed a servo over his mid-chassis and wondered if there was something the Hatchet could do about his T-top. Self-consciously, he thought it made his chest plate appear bloated and maybe get something done about his headlights. Hot Rod felt that he didn’t really need four, perhaps two so he would look less like-

 

The Firebird deleted that code before it became finished. Hot Rod stood up straight at closed his closet where his mirror was hidden and marched towards Hatchet’s. Or Ratchet’s he had to remind himself because if he mistakenly said that nickname aloud then wrenches would fall upon him faster than an Iaconian minute. As Hot Rod got closer to the medical unit he allowed himself to imagine new mods for his form. There was a possibility that he could get extra headers to go with his six existing ones. Maybe if he asked Ratchet politely enough he could suggest an exposed engine like the ones he’s seen on a few muscle cars, though that would make him extremely vulnerable in a fight.

 

“-ave half a processor to actually follow through on my promise, Optimus,” Ratchet warned.

 

Hot Rod wasn’t sure what he was more stunned by. The incensed field Ratchet projected or the fact he was apparently warning the Prime. Hot Rod quickly checked to see that his field remained secure and made a spit-second decision to go see what Wheeljack was up to. Just to make sure that the scientist was doing all right. That’s what Hot Rod was planning to do.

 

Yep, all part of the plan.

* * *

  

Location: Ratchet’s Office, Autobot Base. Time: Five Kliks Ago…

 

“Ratchet.” Optimus greeted and then entered the room once the door slid open for him. While the disarray environment the office was in did not surprise him, he was more dismayed at his old friend’s state. The medic’s frame sagged from something more than just habitual fatigue, sitting there at his desk while reviewing datepads whose words remained obscured from the mech’s sitting position. His faceplate showed worn lines beneath his optics and a scowl that was far from the usual annoyance that seemed to be even more present in the last orn or so.

 

Optimus had not been oblivious to Ratchet’s sudden change in behavior but had thought the correct deliverance had been to keep his distance in order for the ambulance to have time to “chill out” as Charlie would have said.

 

It appeared that he was wrong to have made that call.

 

“I hope I wasn’t intruding,” the commander continued after he analyzed the room and the situation he was in.

 

Ratchet frowned, momentarily taking his full attention away from the datapad’s screen. “How can I when you seem to decide for yourself when is a convenient time to come visit?”

 

Optimus almost winced at the jab but schooled his expression. “I did not mean to make you feel as though you were neglected. I came here to ask if you are unwell in any way.”

 

“Unwell?” Ratchet echoed in incredulity. “Unwell?” He stood up abruptly, causing his desk to jerk a few centimeters forward and not caring that he dropped his recent patient’s data file. “You just noticed now that I’m having some difficulties? That I’ve just now appeared in your radar as a possible liability to your great plan for everything?”

 

“Ratchet, I’m having trouble understanding what are your implications.”

 

“Then let me spell it out to you: Who. The. Slag. Is. Dion?”

 

Optimus felt his Energon run cold.

 

The medic’s glare deepened before he continued, “You told me once that you had friend with that designation. I heard you and Ironhide talk about this ‘Agent Dion’ days ago, which confused me because if I recall correctly that the Dion you told me about has been dead for over nine million years. So, who’s this mech with the same name and what does he have to do with our plans here? Is there even a plan? Bet you thought I forgot about our little chat that got cut off all those weeks ago.”

 

 _I at least hoped you did_. Optimus accounted silently but knew that Ratchet never forgets things. It wasn’t in his programming.

 

“If you don’t give me any answers I’ll…” Ratchet paused before concluding, “…resign from my post as CMO.”

 

Optimus had to admit to himself that he did not expect the threat but he knew Ratchet too well. “You would not dare see through on a threat of that magnitude, would you Ratchet?”

 

He noticed how Ratchet flinched at the question but kept his ground. “I have half a processor to actually follow through on my promise, Optimus.”

 

The Freightliner had the decency to look surprised by the heated advisement.  

 

“I mean it this time.” the red and white ambulance asserted.

 

“Ratchet,” Optimus began, his tone unfeigned. “All I can tell you is that Agent Dion isn’t a duplicate of my fallen friend. The name is indeed an alias but that’s all I can say on the matter. It’s for the best that Ironhide and I remain the sole mecha who know the person behind the pseudonym. As for the question as to why we must stay on Earth and protect it at all costs. We must for the people who have the Energon Radiation on them and for something that I have been in the process of searching since we arrived here. I truly wish I could say more but doing so could have consequences if the enemy ever took you and they tried to force out what you know.”

 

Optimus was relieved at seeing Ratchet’s glare soften before completely melting away into one of deep remorse. The medic vented heavily before placing a servo over his faceplate. The Prime patiently waited for his friend to calm down and watched him remove his servo before unceremoniously slumping onto his chair. Ratchet motioned Optimus to sit on the one on the opposite side of his desk and the Freightliner kindly accepted the offer.

  
“I apologize for my attitude these last few weeks.” Ratchet spoke, his demeanor demure. “I must’ve been seemed like I was acting foolish around you. I just… before this war went south you and I relied on each other for everything. Your health, your literal backplate, a listening audial whenever you felt overwhelmed by Ironhide’s attempts at guidance during your early cycles as the new Prime. I miss the trust we had with one another. With how distant you have become, I wanted assurance that you can still trust me.”

 

Optimus felt repentance wash over his plating. He never meant to make Ratchet feel ignored in such a way.

 

“It’s not that I don’t place my trust with you.” the red and blue truck said genuinely. “I care for you dearly, which is why I have withheld the important information for not only your safety but for the entire Autobot Resistance. The Decepticons would do anything within their power to find out what we have planned for them. You and I both know what they’re capable of. What Megatron’s _elite guard_ is capable of,” he emphasized in a bitter tone.

 

In the corner of Optimus’ optic he saw Ratchet’s frame shuddered involuntarily. “I know.” the medic said. “… But I want assurance this still isn’t all for nothing. That I’m not just going to follow you blindly like I did with the Functionist Council all those million years ago. I want to believe that we have a plan to take back our home.”

 

“Ratchet, you’re going to hate me for what I’m going to say next. I need you to have faith.”

 

“You’re right. I do hate it,” Ratchet deadpanned.

  
  
Optimus almost let out a chuckle at his friend’s response but controlled himself. “Please, let me finish. I need you to have faith in me that what Ironhide and I have planned is long-term. What we’re doing here is bigger than you, me, the whole resistance, Cybertron and the whole galaxy combined.”

 

Slowly, Optimus reached out with his field and sent a comforting presence of assurance/loyalty/hope towards his friend’s faintly withdrawn EMF.

 

“Know that I trust you, Ratchet. Trust that I keep my secrets to protect all of you and that there will be answers, just not this moment in time.”

 

“I suppose I could be a little more lenient on being more patient with you.” Ratchet replied with a slight twinkle in his optic and lowered his field’s shield enough for Optimus’ to sense he was no longer upset.

  
  
“And you could also talk to me instead of keeping your feelings bottled up like a can of EnerGulp.”* Optimus couldn’t help but playfully jest.

 

“Slag,” Ratchet groaned after giving the Prime a look of realization. “Didn’t I give Charlie and Bumblebee that friendship speech about being open with each other back in that junkyard weeks ago? You must think of me as some damn hypocrite.”

 

“We all make mistakes my friend. Even perfectionists like you.” Optimus hadn’t meant for it to come off as a joke but was clearly having trouble stopping himself.

 

Ratchet raised an optical ridge. “Careful Optimus. I was starting to like you again a klik ago.”

 

Optimus reset his optics. “Oh, you stopped liking me?”

 

“Heh, poor old Optimus who can’t fathom the idea that some mech out there just might not like him.”

 

It took no time at all for the two companions to laugh convivially as the silliness of their connotations finally set in. The two of them then left Ratchet’s office and left the base, heading for the beach where the festivities were underway.

 

::Has it really been this long since the two of us had a moment like this to spare the time to have such buoyancy with one another?:: Optimus mused with a surprised vent before he considered, ::I suppose we have been quite busy lately, with the arrivals of Prowl, Hot Rod and Bulkhead.::

 

Ratchet concurred with a nod before adding, ::Having so much work to do have left me a little strained. Fine, very strained:: the medic corrected after sensing Optimus’ thoughtful field.

 

::Things were much more managable when First Aid was still working with me, now he’s off who-knows-where at the other end of the galaxy. And I have no idea if Tankor ever made it. I’ll admit that being on Earth with only eight ‘bots to scrutinize over was less difficult until that number grew to twelve. What’s to say that won’t double in a few orns? And what about when the Decepticons do inevitably reach our doorstep? Although it pains me to say it I can’t look after everyone, Optimus. I’m just one medic. I’ll be needing my own team in the coming months::

 

The Autobot leader sympathized with his friend. Truly he did, but they both knew why such a request was unfeasible at the time.

 

“Oh Ratchet.” the Freightliner vented tiredly He and Ratchet had arrived and greeted the Sector 7 guardsmen while entering the concrete lot by the coastline. “If only we were still on Cybertron. Even if your former student and co-worker are gone, there would still be more mecha or femmes willing to learn from you.

 

Ratchet lubricated his dermas and glanced sideways before answering, “There might be a way to work around that issue.”

 

“What type of solution do you have in mind?” Optimus was unable to prevent himself from leaning from the edge of his metaphorical seat with interest.

 

Ratchet gave him that crooked smile Optimus sometimes saw Ironhide make before he suggested a crazy idea for a battle tactic that somehow worked every time.

* * *

 

Location: Outside Autobot Base [Wheeljack’s Workshop], CA. Time: Present

 

Hot Rod patted himself on the backplate for succeeding in dodging the laser blast that was whatever argument Optimus Prime and Ratchet were having. He never thought he’d see those two disagree on anything. Although with how aggravated the Hatchet had been acting, Hot Rod determined that the older mech would’ve reached a boiling point eventually. It seemed like a lot of ‘bots have been on edge lately, which was surprising considering how everybots’ processors were on the big holiday and wanting to celebrate it properly.

 

Independence Day.

 

In one of Charlie’s recent ‘lectures’ on human culture, she explained that it was in honor of her country’s declaration of independence against another country, England, who had been treating the former colony unfairly for a few vorns. America has been free from tyranny for over two centuries and the majority of its denizens have looked back on it with pride and patriotism. Hot Rod couldn’t help but wonder if the successors to the Autobots would think and feel the same way if-when- _when_ they won the war and liberate Cybertron.

 

And so the Autobots were all choosing to observe the Fourth of July to show support towards their newly adopted home and to remind themselves what they were still fighting for. Hot Rod desired for things to go well if the Autobots were going to mingle with humans, even if he had no interest in joining them. Not because he didn’t feel like partying with everybot at the beach. He just couldn’t for… personal reasons.

 

Hot Rod refocused his attention on finding an excuse for why he came to Wheeljack’s when he heard the scientist talking. The Firebird had troubled sensing another’s field due to it being withdrawn but soon recognized the voice as Ultra Magnus’.

_Mech, I can’t seem to find anybot that isn’t busy talking to somebot else._ Hot Rod thought while rolling his optics in annoyance.

 

Hot Rod couldn’t help but be a little curious about what was happening between the former SIC and inventor. He hid behind a window so that he could see what was going on inside but kept his field and frame hidden from view so the other two couldn’t seem him.

 

 _I hope I don’t get court-martialled for this._ Hot Rod peered through the glass, his optics widened at the sight of what the Lancia Stratos has been up to lately.

 

Wheeljack’s laboratory was even messier than before with large cables laid all across the ground and television monitors stacked on top of one another, covering an entire wall. The screens images showed various locations of the Autobot Base from the entrance, the fences, the back end of the Energon fueling station and, most prominently, the shed that Wheeljack had claimed for storing his latest creations. Hot Rod was in awe and growing concerned at what he was seeing. He saw that Ultra Magnus was talking to Wheeljack but was unable to hear due to the close window. The speedster opted to raise the setting of his audials higher, allowing Rod to pick up what the mech was saying.

 

“-I am merely informing you that what you’re planning can lead to very unscrupulous consequences,” the red, white and blue Freightliner advised. Ultra Magnus stood with the side of his frame towards the window, giving Hot Rod a partial view of the taller mech’s face before returning his attention towards what Wheeljack was doing.

 

Wheeljack didn’t seem to pay the taller mech much heed, as he was busy with connecting various wires around to ports connected to his TVs. He did spare Ultra Magnus enough attention to give him a response.

 

“Listen, there has been somethin’ funny going on around here.” Wheeljack injected. “You all think I’ve just been scattered-processed and jus’ been misplacing stuff but I’m not. I’ve been losing parts ta inventions left an’ right and I think someone’s been stealing them.”

 

Hot Rod almost vented out in shock but quickly manually closed his intake shut and remained immobile.

 

Ultra Magnus appeared as fazed as Hot Rod felt and chastised, “To make such an accusation without any form of proof is a misconduct, Wheeljack. You can’t possibly think jumping to conclusions so swiftly is a good idea. Surely you could try looking for the missing parts with more effort thrown in.”

 

Wheeljack narrowed his optics. “I’m trying not ta sound like I’m stuck on some infinite loop here, I swear I didn’t lose it. Da parts I used for da components in my first cloaking prototype are gone. Not missing, not just outta sight. They were taken from me.”

 

Ultra Magnus seemed to be at a loss before he suggested feebly, “Perhaps if we all looked around and helped you-”

 

“That would just alert whoever’s guilty that I’m on to them.” Wheeljack interrupted with a servo-wave, cutting the younger mech off. He then pointed to his monitors.

 

“Using these will help me catch de perpetrator on de act when they think nobot is watching them. But I will,” the Lancia Stratos vowed with an unknown glint in his optic.

 

“But that would be an invasion of privacy.”

 

“It’s not like I installed any in the recharge quarters.” Wheeljack said in an all too casual tone.

 

“I absolutely forbid this-!”

 

“On what grounds?” the inventor countered while throwing his servos up in exasperation. “You’re no longer Second-in-Command anymore after Prowl came back and as far as I know, Prime didn’t let you keep your right to boss other ‘bots around.”  

 

While the words weren’t being said directly to Hot Rod he still inwardly winced from how hard they stung. Ultra Magnus had taken a step to the side, hiding his faceplate from the red mech’s sight. His body language, however, was as clear as day.

 

Wheeljack vented loudly before squinting his optics as looks of shock and worry settled. His mouth slabs formed into a frown. “Aw, scrap. Listen, Mags’ I didn’t mean ta snap at ya. Honestly, I’ve just-”

 

Ultra Magnus raised a servo, silently asking for silence. The red, green and white mech immediately stiffened.

 

“You speak the truth.” Ultra Magnus spoke slowly, his vocalizer sounding drained. “I had forgotten my place, momentarily, and I am sorry.”

 

“Aw, c’mon, I was so outta line before,” Wheeljack tried to interject.

 

“Please.” The red, white and blue held his servo up again. “I too spoke out of turn. I apologize immensely for my transgression. Your ranking may be honorary, but it is indeed higher than my own.”

 

Wheeljack scratched his helm. “Honestly, I’ve never really saw myself as a Major of anything. I’m pretty sure Optimus made me one so he’d keep me in de unit,” he joked to try to lighten the mood.

 

Ultra Magnus turned to the side again and Hot Rod could see the conflicted look etched on the Freightliner’s faceplate.

 

“I will leave you to it,” the former SIC yielded.

 

Hot Rod watched as Ultra Magnus began to walk away. He started to panic if he needed to hide before he’d be spotted until the larger mech stopped right at the door. 

 

“It would put my processor at ease if you at least tell Optimus Prime or General Prowl about all of,” Ultra Magnus gestured to the wall of stacked screens. “This.”

 

Wheeljack nodded before said with firmly, “Unless I hear otherwise from Optimus or Prowl, I’m gonna keep doing what I’m doing.”

 

“That’s…” Ultra Magnus appeared as though he wished to argue but held back the words and instead said, “acceptable, I suppose.”

 

Hot Rod then saw the red, white, and blue mech pressing his digits on the keypad to activate the door’s opening code. He tried to think of a place he could hide but realized there was no time. The speedster settled with curling his frame and hide behind the steel drums that he was already using to lie low while he was eavesdropping. Hot Rod went even further by keep in his EM field and pressed himself against the barrels as far as he could without making too much noise.

 

“Shouldn’t you be in the middle of your patrol at the northern wall, Private Hot Rod?”

 

_Busted._

Hot Rod’s optics were shut off while trying to make himself small and opened wide after he heard Ultra Magnus’ question. Reluctantly, the red and orange mech slinked out of his hiding spot as his spoilers drooped in shame.

 

“I was going to but I wanted to ask Hatch- _Ratchet_ a question first.” Hot Rod didn’t know if Ultra Magnus would abide to his nickname for the medic and changed it when he could. He wasn’t sure why he cared if Ultra Magnus did or not.

 

“Were you successful in your endeavor?”

 

“Naw.” Hot Rod shook no for his answer. “I saw that he was busy talking to Optimus Prime so I kinda thought of coming here to check on Wheeljack and then noticed you two were also talking and well…” he felt too embarrassed to finish and just shrugged his shoulder pads in defeat.

 

Ultra Magnus raised an optical ridge and merely responded with an, “I see.”

 

Hot Rod bit his lower derma and scrapped his right pede against the ground. Primus, he felt like a youngling all over again. It probably didn’t help with how huge Ultra Magnus was compared to the Firebird’s height. He hated feeling the way he did and the burning sensation in his Spark chamber wasn’t helping improve his mood.

 

A part of him wondered if Ultra Magnus was going through similar pains.

 

“So,” Hot Rod began, his optics glancing at everything but the ‘bot he was speaking towards. “I guess I should just quit beating around the crystal and confess that I kinda overheard you and Wheeljack talking.”

 

“You heard us through the sealed door and windows.” Ultra Magnus stated moderately.

 

Hot Rod regretted everything he ever did up to that moment and became speechless. He could only nod curtly at the taller mech. Ultra Magnus regarded Hot Rod with the same unreadable expression he had seen the FLC112 convey after Prowl reclaimed his position.

 

“I may have had my audials turned up high to listen in better.”

 

“That is considered eavesdropping, Private Hot Rod.”

 

The red, orange and gold mech winced at the blunt observation. “Yeah, you’re right. And I think you were also right about scolding Wheeljack for making that weirdo surveillance tech without telling anybot and other things.”

 

“He has his reasons as you already know.”

 

“Yeah, but I also meant the things he said about your rank and-”

 

Ultra Magnus reset his intake valve, suddenly breaking off Hot Rod. “I need to make my rounds, especially since you failed to complete your shift.”

 

“I’ll join you.” Hot Rod sprinted in order to catch up with the longer legged mech who could move four meters every step. “I gotta make up for my previous mistake. I bet you probably think you did something bad or maybe think there needs to be a reason for what happened and just want to feel useful again.”

 

“I simply wish to follow the Supreme Commander’s orders to patrol the perimeter, nothing more.” Ultra Magnus robustly informed the shorter mech. “As for the conversation and its context, I have no interest in dealing with _that_ right now.”

 

The Firebird had a clear idea what Ultra Magnus meant by _that_ , but wasn’t sure he was coping about it well. Hot Rod knew better than to bury one’s feelings. He decided to initiate an approach similar he had done with Arcee.

 

“So how long were you Prime’s Second?”

 

“Half a vorn.” Ultra Magnus answered after a klik.

 

Hot Rod raised his optical ridges. “Wow… That’s pretty short. Not gonna lie.”

 

Ultra Magnus frowned while continuing to walk while occasionally looking at buildings. “I did what I could and yet I feel as though it was not enough. I cannot help but wonder if I knew how much time I had left if I could have done more.”

 

“And you’re sad about losing your job to General Prowl.” Hot Rod said on point.

 

“I would never say such a thing.” Ultra Magnus said, aghast at the smaller mech’s indication. “I’m happy for General Prowl’s return.”

 

“You’re allowed to be sad, you know.” Hot Rod said sympathetically. “Bulkhead was pretty down when he had to leave the Wreckers before going to that space station. I was also sad about leaving my troop when General Prowl went to come find me.”

 

“No, there is nothing wrong if you’re struck by a chord, but it would seem very rude of me to mourn for what was never mine.”

 

“Look, you lost your position in Unit Prime but it doesn’t mean you’re kicked out of the team. You can find something else. And quit acting like you weren’t worthy or something. Take it from the aft who got jealous because of a human and felt his friendship was threatened.” Hot Rod grinned, attempting a joke to brighten things up.

 

Ultra Magnus frowned, his faceplace downcast. “General Prowl was always meant to be Optimus Prime’s SIC. I was merely a placeholder.”

 

“Says who?” Hot Rod stated suspiciously. “Wheeljack? He apologized before and I haven’t heard anybot else talk smack about you.”

 

“Yes.” Ultra Magnus conceded but said stubbornly, “But between the two of us, General Prowl will always be a superior strategist. You did seek him out the other cycle, did you not?”

 

Hot Rod slightly winced from the memory despite how incorrect Ultra Magnus’ claim. He vented and pinched his olfactory sensor.

 

“I needed him for his police alt-mode to scare a couple of humans away. Yeah, he’s brilliant but you gotta stop cutting yourself so short. While under the Prime, you led some successful campaigns. Like how you came with reinforcements to help the Wreckers after they cornered Trannis and didn’t know what else to do since they weren’t trailed soldiers. Or how about that time you helped prove that the rumor that Optimus Prime was a spy was a load of slag.” **

 

“A ridiculous falsehood made by Decepticon propaganda to lower morale within the Autobot ranks,” Ultra Magnus couldn’t help but explain. “There was minimal difficulty in finding out it was an attempt Soundwave was making through subliminal messages.”

 

“And you knocked down his hidden tower with a big-aft hammer.” Hot Rod imitated a swinging motion.

 

“How do you know of my exploits so well?” Ultra Magnus asked in awe.

 

“‘Bee told me since he was working under you when he first joined Unit Prime, even before you became SIC. Compared to that I’m just some Private with a hot paintjob.” He grinned while tapping at his topcoat with the flames. “I’m nobot special like you.”

 

“No.” Ultra Magnus shook his helm. “You are important to the cause. You file states you have one of the highest shooting range records out of any new recruit that has yet to be bested by anybot else. Not to mention the speed your alternate-mode is capable of making, I would say you are a very invaluable part of this unit. Supreme Commander Prime truly feels relieved to have one with your skill set here with us.”

 

Hot Rod let out a smirk and rested his servos on his hips. “Just like he must be grateful to have a ‘bot with damn impressive memory, super strength and attention to protocol like you?”

 

Ultra Magnus’ reaction was nothing short of hilarious with his gaping mouth and enlarged optics. Hot Rod took pity on the taller mech and refused to chuckle, no matter how endearing he looked.

 

“I bet it also helps that you’re almost Optimus’ size and can probably step on some ‘cons if you wanted to.”

 

“That doesn’t sound very sportsmanlike.”

 

Hot Rod chuckled. “Yep, you’re definitely a great ‘bot of honor. Another reason Optimus Prime isn’t gonna be kicking you to the curve anytime soon.”

 

Ultra Magnus stared silently at Hot Rod for a nano-klik before venting out with a tremble. Hot Rod felt the urge to hold the Freightliner steady but decided against it.

 

“There might be some truth to what you said,” Ultra Magnus uttered airlessly.

 

Hot Rod pretended to appear nonchalant but did a little victory dance inside his processor. “I’m right when I’m right.”

 

“So it would seem.”

 

The two of them fell into a comfortable silence as the sky above them started to shift from azure to slightly scattered violet.

 

“So, you read my report?” Hot Rod asked a while later. He had to tilt his helm so he could see Ultra Magnus’ faceplate properly.

 

“With the extra time I have accumulated I managed to review yours and Bulkhead’s files. I must say I was impressed when I read your target records. You have a accuracy record that is nearly on par with a Praxian.”

 

Hot Rod beamed with pride from the compliment and even straightened his back strut. He then glanced hopefully at Ultra Magnus.

 

“If I ask you politely enough could you let me try out your hammer?”

* * *

 

Never before had anyone asked such an unusual request. Countless mecha and femmes commented positively on his weapon of choice. The Wreckers were so impressed the hammer they even used its imagery as a part of their developing team’s insignia and kept it ever since.*** But none of then ever asked to wield the mallet, let alone touch it. Ultra Magnus was starting to suspect that Hot Rod would keep on surprising him from what he had witnessed thus far.

 

Nobot had ever intrigued Magnus in a similar way before.

 

He was about to give the red speedster his answer when-

 

KA-BOOM!

 

“Ah, the first of the fireworks displays are starting,” Magnus commented offhandedly before he returned his attention back to Hot Rod. “Now about your question, I personally think it would be best to-” the red, white and blue mech laid his optics at the spot where Hot Rod stood but suddenly found it was vacant.

 

“Private Hot Rod?” Magnus frowned in confusion. “Where are you?”

 

 _Perhaps he was alerted by a superior and had to report?_ Magnus thought as countless other scenarios filtered through his system. His logistics deleted the idea and dozens more as they did not compute with Hot Rod’s protocols and personality circuitry. If he had to leave, the Firebird would have said goodbye and had given him an explanation. To abscond without any bit of fanfare was unlike Hot Rod, at least from what Magnus witnessed in the few Earth weeks he had known the smaller mech.

 

Something strange was going on and Ultra Magnus planned to get to the bottom of it.

* * *

 

Location: Beach, CA. Time: 1900 Hours

 

“You guys didn’t have to bring me this,” Charlie gushed at the California and spicy tuna rolls Memo and Chip brought her.

 

“Well, _Fujiyama_ ’s was right by the place we bought more sparklers and ‘Bee told us which rolls you liked best.”**** Memo replied.

 

“You told me you hadn’t had any in a while so I thought, ‘why not.’” ‘Bee added.

 

Charlie felt so touched at what her two friends and new friend did for her. She slipped her hand into her pocket to fish out her wallet. “Okay, so how much do I owe you, Memo? Or was it Chip?”

 

“Neither of us paid for it.” Chip told her.

 

The mechanic narrowed her eyes in confusion. “But how…?” She trailed off after both humans looked pointedly at the Camaro.

 

‘Bee’s optics glowed before he pulled out a large wad of cash from his Subspace.

 

“Is that real money?” Charlie gaped.

 

“About three hundred… well, less than that after purchasing the sushi, which was about twelve dollars.”

 

“You have a hundred and eighty-eight dollars?” the Smiths loving girl stated after doing the math in her head.

 

“It’s the exact allowance all the Autobots have.” ‘Bee said quickly until he adjoined, “Except for Optimus, since he’s carrying the rest of the funds.”

 

“You’ve lost me, ‘Bee. How do you have Earth money?”  

 

“It’s part of the deal Optimus made with Sector 7. Optimus and Prowl discussed it while we were going to get Memo a couple days ago. The agreement was for every Autobot technology we’d share with them, they pay us for how much it would be worth. Thankfully, Prowl is really great at finances and he figured out the price value of Wheeljack’s inventions and convert the cost from shanix to American currency.”

 

“What technology did you agree to share with the U.S. Government?” Chip asked.

 

“Our universal translator. Prowl said there is less of a 88.7% chance that the United States government could find a way to use it for anything outside of its normal function.”

 

“Did Wheeljack invent the translator?” Charlie wondered.

 

‘Bee shifted his optics before leaning his helm near Charlie’s ear. “No. It’s pretty old tech by Cybertronian standards, but they don’t know that.” He inclined his helm toward the armed Sector 7 soldiers ‘guarding’ the area. The only reason they were there was to keep any wayward humans from entering the beach since the Autobots were more than capable of handling themselves.

 

The two of them snickered at each other while Chip and Memo, who weren’t part of the previous conversation, looked bemused.

 

“Hey look!” Otis shouted and pointed to the sky. Farther down the coast the faint flickering of fireworks could be seen.

 

“They’ll look even better once the sun sets,” Charlie told ‘Bee.

 

“I hope Wheeljack can come here soon.” he replied after Bulkhead appeared.

 

The green Lamborghini nodded. “Yeah, if he’ll get off his monitors for a mega-cycle that is. If his accidental explosions look good I can’t wait to see what the ones he does on purpose look like.”

 

“Is Wheeljack bringing fireworks?” Charlie asked with raised eyebrows.

 

“He’s made some.” ‘Bee answered.

 

Charlie gave him a blank stare.

 

“Char-lie,” Bumblebee stressed, mildly bummed out. “It’ll be fine.”

 

“Has Wheeljack ever made fireworks before?” Charlie inquired evenly.

 

“He’s made stuff explode before.” ‘Bee answered with shifty optics.

 

“’Bee.”

 

“Ironhide is here.” ‘Bee pointed towards the red mech, who was busy chatting with Burns and Fowler. “He used to be a firebot before the war and knows how to deal with fires if things get out of servo.”

 

“We are on sand, so the fires should be minimal.” Bulkhead concurred.

 

“You have to trust us when we say nothing bad will happen to you.” ‘Bee insisted.

 

“I know,” Charlie sighed. “I just, I don’t want bad things to happen. We haven’t had a big get together likes this since Cliffjumper’s funeral. I want tonight to be choice. No miscommunications, no misunderstandings, no unintentional explosions and maybe no arguments or fights.”

 

“It’s probably good that Hot Rod’s back at the base then.” Bulkhead muttered.

 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Charlie placed her hands on her hips. “I thought Hot Rod’s been doing a lot better lately.”

 

Bulkhead blanched. “I don’t mean I don’t _want_ him here. I do, really, but he’d not want to be this close to any bright fires.” The green trunk grimaced. “I don’t think I was supposed to say that.”

 

“Say what?”

 

“The reason why Hot Rod isn’t here.” Bumblebee said to Charlie with a hint of sadness.

 

Charlie frowned, trying to think of a reason. “Does he not like fireworks?”

 

“He doesn’t like fires in general.” ‘Bee answered with a knowing glow in his optics.

 

The mechanic’s eyes widened as a familiar memory resurfaced in her mind. “Oh.”

* * *

 

“Hot Rod.” Ultra Magnus called again for the fourth time after the latter’s disappearance.

 

The Freightliner vented, his frustration beginning to grow. “If you wished to patrol alone you could have requested it. If I was boring you in any way you should’ve said so instead of-”

 

KA-BOOM!

 

Ultra Magnus recoiled from the loud noise until he heard another sound. It was faint but thanks to his audials he identified it as a whimper.

 

Ka-boom!

 

Once more Ultra Magnus heard a soft mewl of distress right after the recent illuminations detonated. He raised his audials’ hearing range in order to find the source of the cry and for extra measure, used his infrared thermography setting within his optics. Magnus scanned the area and found nothing but blacks and deep blues until he sighted a mass of reds and oranges converged around a bright yellow circle that could only be a Cybertronian’s Spark. The glow was located inside the tool shed that once housed those… spiders.

 

Sweet Solus Prime, have mercy on Magnus’ Spark.

 

Ultra Magnus straightened himself and held a look of resolve in order to brave the small shack if Hot Rod was inside. The red, white and blue mech took a few steps forward and found him self in front of the shed’s door.

 

He gingerly knocked at the door once and then reset his vocalizer. “Hot Rod?” he asked, silently praying to all Twelve Primes that the private wasn’t there and he had no need to open pry the door open unleashing whatever is inside.

 

“Private Hot Rod?” Ultra Magnus uttered once he deactivated his infrared vision and discovered who was within the one-room unit.

 

The red and orange Firebird reset his optics and did a halfsparked wave. “Hey Ultra Magnus.”

 

“What business do you have inside this shed?” Ultra Magnus questioned while peering inside the small building.

 

“Oh. I come here to process.”

 

“This is your ‘processing shed?’” The Freightliner frowned dubiously.

 

“Uh-huh.” Hot Rod didn’t sound that much convinced himself.

 

“Seems a bit cramped in there.” Ultra Magnus dryly commented.

 

Hot Rod chuckled nervously. “Then is guess it’s a good thing I’m not claustrophobic then.”

 

Ultra Magnus vented, not at all pleased with the coy nature of the present colloquy.

 

“I’ve had enough of this game, Hot Rod. If you won’t tell me the basis behind your sudden change in behavior I’ll have no choice but report this to Supreme Commander Optimus and-”

 

KA-BOOM!

 

Just like before Ultra Magnus heard a small yelp that accompanied the firework’s blast but this time he understood where, or in his case, who was emitting the sound. In front of Magnus, Hot Rod had curled up into his frame and even covered his faceplate with an arm.

 

“Hot Rod,” Ultra Magnus called out, in a much more gentle tone. “Are you afraid of loud noises?”

 

The smaller Autobot removed his arm away from his helm, his dermas forming a thin line. “You think I’d still be a soldier if I couldn’t hand the sound of a bomb going off or gunfire?”

 

Ka-peeeeeew~! The harsh whine of a rocket shot overhelm with a bright flash of light appearing after it broke apart. Hot Rod attempted to conceal his faceplate again after he witnessed the display.

 

A wave of understanding swept over Ultra Magnus. “You have a fear of fire,” he stated.

 

Hot Rod forced out a laugh. “What gave me away?”

 

“I did not expect…” Ultra Magnus cut himself off, hesitating until Hot Rod nodded at him to continue. “When I read your file it said that you carry the ability to shot out bursts of flames from your headers.”

 

“Yeah,” Hot Rod admitted unenthusiastically, “but I don’t use it.”

 

“Because of your pyrophobia?”

 

“Don’t say that.” the Firebird all but shouted.

 

Ultra Magnus took a step back and raised his servos towards his chest. “I didn’t mean to offend you.”

 

Hot Rod’s neutral look shifted into a frown. “I know. I just-” he groaned. “I hate talking about this. It makes me feel weak.”

 

KA-BOOM!

 

“Please close the door,” Hot Rod begged Ultra Magnus while covering his optics.

 

“Haven’t you thought of muting your audial sensors so you would be deaf to the sounds of the fireworks?”

 

“…. Yeah, uh, but then I wouldn’t be able to hear anybot else if they went to look for me.” Hot Rod reasoned tensely.

 

“Come with me.” Ultra Magnus offered his servo.

 

“Huh?” Hot Rod gave the taller mech a perplexed look. “Where?”

 

“The barracks. The sounds of the fireworks can’t reach us down there.” Ultra Magnus answered simply while leading Hot Rod to that direction after he succeeded in coaxing the other Autobot out of the shed.

 

“But the patrol-” Hot Rod started before the red, white and blue truck interrupted him.

 

“I am certain that Supreme Commander Optimus Prime will forgive us for the insubordination, this time.” Magnus offered a small smile in order to ease Hot Rod.

 

The red and orange mech lowered his helm. “Could you make sure only he knows. I don’t think I could look at anybot in the optic for a month if they knew about my… issue.”

 

“There’s nothing wrong with being afraid of something, Hot Rod.”

 

“Yeah, but fire is kinda the worst thing for us to be scared of. Especially with the war going on.”

 

“If you don’t mind me asking but why are you afraid of fire?” Ultra Magnus asked once the two of them were safely inside Hot Rod’s quarters. He allowed himself to do a quick scan of the room and saw that the red Pontiac had already made quite the mess. There were two stacks on datapads on one side and ripped Earth paper on the other. The walls were bare but the lone shelf was full of paint cans and used cubes that Hot Rod clearly forgot to take back to the Energon convertors to have them recycled. An overflow of paper wads flooded a rubbish bin.

 

“Bumblebee told me that humans like to throw paper balls into trash cans when they’re bored.” Hot Rod told Ultra Magnus after he noticed the other mech’s staring.

 

“I see.”

 

“To answer your question, I.” Hot Rod halted.

 

“You don’t have to tell me if it makes you uncomfortable.”

 

“It’s not that.” Hot Rod shook his helm. “You said you read my file, right? Well, you must already know the story of poor little Roddy losing his surrogates to a fire that destroyed their apartment,” he mockingly jeered.

 

Ultra Magnus responded, “No. That part was restricted due to a request that it would remain disclosed. I had no idea but I am very sorry for your loss.”

 

“You know the worst thing? It wasn’t even an accident.”

 

“The fire the burned down your home?” Magnus inquired with intrigue.

 

“The Great Fire of Nyon was no fluke,” Hot Rod said gravely. “It all started one vorn after basic training. Bulk was sent off to the Wreckers and I was sent to Tyrest where I was part of a sniper unit led by Lieutenant Sureshot.”*****

 

“Security Lieutenant Ironhide has spoken of him before.” Magnus squarely commented. “A master gunmech if there ever was one.”

 

Hot Rod nodded before he resumed, “We joined up with another unit called the Turbo-Meisters. Our-”

 

“Turbo-Meisters?” Magnus rediscovered an old memory file with that name mentioned. “I’ve heard of them. They are an elite group of former racing stars that all gave up their decadent lives before the war started to join the Autobots. Isn’t their leader’s name Thundercl-” he was silenced unexpectedly by Hot Rod thrusting a digit over his dermas.

 

“I’m already in a bad mood.” Hot Rod said with a glower. “Do not speak of that _mech_ who must not be named.”

 

The Freightliner reset his optics twice before he awkwardly cleared his vocalizer. He was not sure why the legendary Thunderclash deserved such ire but decided not to press on that. “What was your unit and the Turbo-Meisters were doing in Tyrest?”

 

Hot Rod’s shoulder struts lowered slightly and his expression returned to being relaxed again. “Our mission was to infiltrate an old gladiator arena that was turned into a Decepticon base. Supposedly there was a large deposit of Energon cubes located there that the resistance really needed at that time. Sureshot and _that guy_ led the units under an old cable tunnel beneath the stadium. Everything was going all right when our scanners notified us about the rising heat. It turned out a crewmech of _that guy_ had a tracker planted on him during a prior skirmish against the same ‘cons tracking us. We figured the best way out of the tunnels was following the paths that were still had cooler temperatures in them and found one already occupied by the mecha responsible for the fire. This was my big chance, I was so ready to kick some Decepticreep afts when I was finally faceplate to faceplate with them.”

 

“Who were they?” Magnus asked.

 

“The Firecons.” Hot Rod answered  

 

“The pyrotechnicians.” Magnus vented, taken aback.

 

The Firecons were Decepticons who did everything other ‘con-based teams could do but carefully handle fire-related weapons. Rumors had plagued the team about them being former Eukarians colonists that had somehow become more machine than technorganic. Ultra Magnus did not believe in the tall tales even though he couldn’t confirm nor deny if they were true. When the eighteen-wheeler voiced his concerns he watched the smaller mech grimace.

 

“I wished those rumors were just that but it’s true. Somehow their bodies were meshed with metal and wires. They were some of the most hideous creatures I ever saw and I’ve seen Bulk’ without his armor plating,” Hot Rod teased lightly to ease the tension.

 

“Go on,” Magnus prodded gently.

 

“But the thing that got under my plating was their optics. All I could see was a blazing inferno and I-I froze. I couldn’t think, vent-anything. I just completely shut down right when one of the Firecons shot sparks from his beak and straight at me.”

 

Hot Rod scowled before he resumed. “The _great_ Thunderclash had to be the hero and pushed me down to avoid the blast. His act of bravery, naturally inspired the others, and my team to drive the ‘cons away and allowing all of us to take the Energon cubes from the newly abandoned base and live another day.”

 

“Hot Rod.” Ultra Magnus called out for the red and orange car to stop his tangent. Hot Rod quickly threw a sheepish smile before he went back on topic.

 

“Cycles after we returned to Iacon, Red Alert, an old colleague of Inferno’s, came sometime to check on my and the rest of the unit's minor burns.”

 

“I know of Red Alert.” Magnus said.  According to his files, Red Alert was a part-time medic who used to work as a Security Director for the Rescue Bots, Firebots Division.

 

“Anyway, he was one of the medics there and asked me why I got hurt. I told him about my encounter with the Firecon and he stared at me like I installed a second helm.”

 

“Why did he react that way?” Magnus couldn’t prevent himself from asking.

 

“He carefully explained to me that he was one of the firebots sent to put out the fires in Nyon. He was sent to the same apartment tower I lived in with Inferno and Firestar. Kup was able to get me out of there in time but he and Inferno saw another person in the building. He perfectly matched the description I gave to Red Alert about the Firecon. He almost went after us then and there but Red Alert scared him off with his fire extinguisher foam.”

 

Ultra Magnus’ fuel pump sputtered from surprise as the mech tried to recompose himself. _To think that the Decepticons could… no, I believe that they would do such a travesty, but for someone so young to have been there at the center of it all._ He gazed sorrowfully at Hot Rod.

 

“After that cycle in Tyrest, I haven’t looked at a fire the same way since.” The Firebird revealed as his shoulder pads slumped further down than they were before. “I can deal with the sound of bombs going off and running in the middle of laser blasts but seeing any type of flames come at me, I just go back to that dark cycle in Nyon all over again, seeing my surrogates offline right before my optics.”

 

“And why you refuse to use your outlier ability,” Ultra Magnus concluded, his voice heavy with commiseration.

 

Hot Rod reset his vocalizer into a wheezing laugh. “Yeah, pretty much. So, now you know my big secret. I bet I probably just lost what little respect you had left for me.”

 

“The only thing I was losing from you earlier was my patience.” Ultra Magnus affirmed. “Your abrupt departure a groon ago had me worried. I feared that I possibly had done something to offend you.”

 

“No.” Hot Rod shook his helm. “I was just being my cowardly self.”

 

“I know our time has been succinct up to this point, save for a few scant moments during the unit’s daily meetings, but in that period I have made a deduction that while you are many things, cowardly isn’t one of them.”

 

Hot Rod’s optics widened as his dermas spread open to form a larg ‘O’. He attempted to speak but had issues finding the right words.

 

Ultra Magnus took Hot Rod’s lack of chatter as an opportunity to further add, “Private Hot Rod, you showed courage today by allowing yourself to open your Spark to me. Nobot could hold you against that.”

 

The red and orange muscle car persistently stared dumbly at the former Enforcer. Ultra Magnus saw it as his cue to go and leave, believing the smaller mech wanted to be left alone in his berthroom. He had just moved his knee up when the Firebird’s servo shot up and held it in place.

 

“You know, my friends call me Rod, or Roddy if I really screwed up at something.” Hot Rod grinned.

 

“Yes.” Ultra Magnus nodded in affirmation, assuming the red and orange mech was simply sharing a fact with him. “I have heard Calvary Scout Bumblebee and Private Bulkhead call you by those designations in the past.”

 

Hot Rod shortly vented out through his olfactory sensors while his toothy smile remained. “I mean you can call me Rod. There’s no need for stuffy titles.”

 

Now it was Magnus’ turn for his optics to enlarge and for him to open his intake. “Oh. Rod it is then but only if _you_ agree to addressing me as Magnus, when the situation is proper to do so of course.”

 

“Of course, Magnus.” Rod winked, which led Magnus to shiver for reasons he couldn’t fathom despite how warm his faceplates felt.

 

“It’s so weird.”

 

“What is?” the Freightliner managed to utter once he allowed his venting to regulate back to normal.

 

“I’m never really blurted out this much stuff with anybot but my friends and Arcee before.” Rod divulged secretively as he leaned forward, using his hold on the truck, until his optics stared into Magnus’. “Do you think you know why is that Mags? Is it okay if I call you that?”

 

 _Mags?_ the red, white and blue truck thought in a daze. Ultra Magnus’ frame was on the verge of overheating as unknown emotions swelled his systems when-

 

DING! DING! DING!

 

“The frag?” Hot Rod shot up from his berth in confusion at the loud sound.

 

::Hot Rod? Ultra Magnus!:: Wheeljack shouted from their commlink. ::It’s happened!::

 

“What-” Magnus started before he remembered they were nowhere near the inventor’s station. ::What has happened, Wheeljack?::

 

::I spotted the thief and they’re running outta da base now::

 

**Beginning of the Fourth Of July Arc**

* * *

 

 **Q-A:** Cliffhanger! I did it again. Whoops. Just kidding, it was totally intentional. Well, I bet you all saw that twist a mile away after I brought up Wheeljack’s new security system. So, what did you think of chapter 16? Did you like the bit with the hotdogs at the beginning? I thought it was funny and Charlie’s interactions with the ‘bots was cute. Did that talk Ratchet had with Optimus give you guys more questions than answers? If so then my work here is done. X3 How about all the RodxMags going on in the chapter? Did you like it? I enjoyed it and I hope it wasn’t OOC. I’m having fun building their relationship up and how they’re both huge dorks to each other. XD

 

 

References:

 

*It’s a made up drink from the _Kre-O Transformers_ animated shorts. (In case you’re wondering my favorite short(s) is the Quest For Energon two-parter.)

 

**Inspired by the _Marvel_ UK comic _The Harder They Die_ by Simon Furman, only this time Ultra Magnus didn’t buy the slag from the start and personally went out of his way to find the truth and clear the Prime’s good name.

 

*** Here’s what the actual Wrecker’s logo looks like: <https://tfwiki.net/wiki/File:Wreckers_symbol.png>

 

**** Fujiyama is the same name of the scientist from the G1 cartoon who invented the first female robot to be reprogrammed into a Decepticon called Nightbird. The episode in question was titled “Enter The Nightbird”. According to Travis Knight, Nightbird, design wise, inspired the Bumblebee original villain, Shatter.

 

*****While coming up with the world-building for this story I wondered if I should’ve included the “Master” groups yet because I kept thinking that they would be real game-changers in the war and it would lead to a plot hole of why didn’t Optimus just use them to help fight the Decepticons if they were already there? I decided to follow the G1 continuity closer as a result and not have any “Masters” officially appear until much, much later on in future stories that I have in mind. So, Lt. Sureshot is the same Sureshot from the G1 continuity but my canon here is that he hasn’t been formatted into a Targetmaster yet. It’s the same reason I renamed the Turbomasters.

(Yep, I just loved Hot Rod's irrational hatred of Thunderclash and I couldn’t resist putting that in this story. XD Sadly I don’t have any plans of making Thunderclash a main character in this but there will be a cameo much later on.)

 

Songs used:

 

Chapter title: Through The Fire by Chaka Khan <\-- All about Hot Rod and his feelings about fire and perhaps also about a certain mech. *Wink. Wink.*

 

~Please give comments, kudos and subscribe. I’ll answer any questions to the best of my abilities. :D And be sure to…

 

Keep on Writin’ and Rockin’ 


	19. She Blinded Me With Science

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The identity of the thief is revealed and Ratchet’s idea comes into fruition.

**Q-A:** Hi everyone! Welcome to chapter 17! Are you all ready to see how the chase goes? Well, we’re going to rewind to a little bit before we get back to then for something that’s kind of important. I do it because I love you all so much. ;) I want to thank everyone who reviewed the last chapter and gave kudos. I really appreciated it.

 

**Disclaimer:**  I do not own  _The Transformers_. It solely belongs to  _Hasbro_  and  _Paramount_. The song referenced in this chapter belongs to its respected producers/singers.

 

**Warnings** for this chapter are:

Swearing, injuries and xenophobia ahead.

 

“I can't find anything.

All my tubes and wires and careful notes

and antiquated notions”

 - “She Blinded Me With Science” by Thomas Dolby

* * *

 

 

Location: “Hide and Seek” Beach, CA. Date: July 4, 1988. Time: 1955 Hours

 

The wind blew faintly enough for the hair on Charlie to flutter gently. The air smelled of sea salt and far off barbeque from the parking lot. It was different from when she and Bumblebee had been to that beach months ago. When she taught him how to hide and he mistakenly thought he needed to copy her exactly and took cover behind a rock that barely hid his helm. So much time had passed since then. 

 

_“Oh.”_ Charlie remembered saying after hearing ‘Bee’s explanation as to why Hot Rod wouldn’t be joining them.

 

She was disappointed but understood why. Charlie was more shocked about recently learning that the Pontiac Firebird might have a fear of fire after millions of years. She supposed that beings that lived for hundreds of vorns probably had a longer, tougher time getting over trauma. The mechanic knew from personal experience how the pain of the past could hurt a person.

 

Bumblebee seemed to sense that Charlie’s silence stemmed from her disquieting and cheerfully said, “It’ll be fine. With Ultra Magnus up there with Hot Rod, he’ll be okay.”

 

“Thanks, though I was thinking about something else,” she admitted.

 

‘Bee titled his helm at the human. It looked like he wanted to say more when Sally walked over until she was by the surf with them.

 

“Charlie,” her mother addressed her. “Optimus Prime said he wants you to come over to the parking lot.”

 

The mechanic and ‘Bee exchanged looks before she placed her attetion back to her mom. “Did he say why?”

 

Sally shook her head. “He didn’t sound angry if that’s what you’re worried about,” the nurse said, reading her daughter like an open book. Then she smiled. “He just said for you to come over. I don’t think there’s going to be an interrogation, sweetie.”

 

“Can I come too?” ‘Bee requested with a hopeful gleam in his optics.

 

Charlie was ready to cave in and say yes but knew she had to hear from her mother if Optimus said it was cool.

 

“I think he said you could come along, if you like.”

 

‘Bee beamed as best as he could with his mouth-less face and followed Charlie to the concrete area. There the two saw that Optimus was standing with Ratchet, who had finally come down from his office (who looked less gloomy for once), and Agents Burns and Fowler. Charlie started to feel a little bit nervous but one encouraging glance from ‘Bee helped calm her a little bit.

 

“Charlie.” the Prime greeted with a short incline of his helm. “I’m pleased you came here without delay.”

 

“What do you need me for?”

 

“It’s something I believe all of us can benefit from.” Optimus said. When she gave him a puzzled expression he stared at her knowingly. “According to Ratchet, he had offered you a position to work with him.”

 

The red and blue truck looked at Ratchet. “Isn’t that still true, old friend?”

 

Ratchet nodded once. “Yes, and my offer hasn’t changed.”

 

Charlie bit her inner cheek before saying, “I was honored by Ratchet’s offer and I appreciate that you haven’t changed your mind, really, but as good as the internship sounds I can’t accept it.”

 

“Because you need a job that includes compensation for your labor.” Optimus stated calmly.

 

The mechanic nodded, a sense of shame washing over her as she said, “Yes.”

 

“You don’t need to worry about that anymore because Ratchet can and will pay for your services.”

 

Charlie did a double take. “What?”

 

“I assume Bumblebee has told you about our agreement with Sector 7?” The Prime motioned towards Burns and Fowler who had been uncharacteristically quiet the whole time.

 

“Yeah, that they’re gonna pay you for the inventions you share with them.” Charlie answered after giving the two men a momentary look.

 

Burns was the first to step up and said, “When Optimus Prime told us what Ratchet suggested to him about needing extra hands, we agreed to allow a small percentage to go to an imbursement for an apprentice.”

 

“Though at first we thought he meant literal hands and not other people,” Fowler revealed, much to Burns’ apparent embarrassment.

 

“An apprentice?” Charlie repeated with amazement in her tone.

 

“Really?” ‘Bee conveyed in a vent identical to hers.

 

Ratchet threw the two government agents an irked stare. “Well, there goes the surprise.”

 

The medic then put his attention onto Charlie and kneeled before her. “So what do you say, kid? If you get paid for it, are you willing to take an apprenticeship under me?”

 

“I,” Charlie staggered, needing to lean against ‘Bee’s leg to keep herself from possibly fainting.  The Camaro helped keep her steady as she straightened herself back in place. She gave the Ambulance a beatific smile as a huge weight lifted off her shoulders. “I would like that a lot.”

 

The mechanic took his offered servo and shook it. “Thank you, thank you so much!”

 

Ratchet gave her a smile that vanished as quickly as it had appeared. “No, kid. Thank _you_.” He then became serious and said, “Remember, don’t expect me to walk you through it like some youngling. You better do that studying I told you about. I’m not going to be nice all of a sudden and-”

 

“Thank you,” Charlie said again but this time hugging his arm out of sincere gratitude. She finally had a chance to get to a good trade school and maybe find a professional mechanic to fix her Corvette. Charlie knew she probably couldn’t go to school in the fall with how little money she had but she, hopefully, could save enough for the spring semester once she started working with Ratchet.

 

Not since finding out Bumblebee was going to stay near Brighton had she truly felt this happy.

* * *

 

Unknown to Charlie, Ratchet had a very stunned look on his faceplates due to the expected embrace she was giving to his right arm. He stared panicky at both Optimus and Bumblebee, unsure on how to deal with the situation but neither of them looked like they were likely to aid him as they both appeared to be trying to hold back their laughter. Agent Burns and Agent Fowler looked like they weren’t too far behind themselves.

 

::Optimus, ‘Bee, I swear to all that is good and innocent in the known universe if you won’t help me::

 

::Okay, Ratchet:: Bumblebee giggled through the commlink. ::I’ll give you a-::

 

::Supreme Commander!:: Ultra Magnus shouted, causing the medic and scout to wince while Optimus remained calm.

 

::Oh, forgive me. I was unaware that you were already sharing the line with others::

 

::What is it, Ultra Magnus?:: Optimus steered the conversation as uniformly as possible.

 

::Wheeljack’s alarm went off. He said he saw someone steal an invention from his storage unit::

 

Optimus immediately instructed Ultra Magnus to go to Wheeljack if they hadn’t already done so and then went to go find Prowl.

 

“Prowl.” The FL86 Freightliner alerted his general and military strategist who was busy with talking to Jazz and Arcee on some inconsequential topic.

 

“Sir.” The Praxian stood erect as did the other mecha and femm after hearing Optimus’ staid tone.

 

“We have a situation.”

 

“Is it the ‘cons?” Arcee asked.

 

“If only it were that simple.”

* * *

 

Location: Autobot Base [Wheeljack’s Workshop], CA. Time: 2000 Hours

  
Five kliks after Ultra Magnus alerted Optimus about Wheeljack’s distress all he and Hot Rod drove quickly as they could through the lot until they had reached Wheeljack’s. The two barged right in and saw that inside the makeshift laboratory everything was in chaos. All the lights flickered and alarms trumpeted louder than an electrophant’s trunk. The Lancia Stratos scrambled around with his servos waving and pushing all kinds of buttons and levers.

 

“Can yous guys help me shut some of these things down?” Wheeljack yelled over the alarms. “Dey are startin’ to give me a helm-ache and I can’t processor with them on either.”

 

“On it.” Ultra Magnus said as Hot Rod glanced at the monitors.

 

“So, where’s the wiseguy that took your stuff, Wheeljack?” Hot Rod asked.

 

“I made sure to alert Supreme Commander Prime of the theft,” the red, white, and blue mech informed.

 

“Good, thanks a lot.” Wheeljack nodded approvingly at Magnus before looking at the Pontiac Firebird. “Ta answer your question, I found the little thief on here.”

 

He pointed his digit at a monitor screen three shelves down and to the second grid on the left. The image on the screen showed the warehouse full of the Italian sports car’s inventions.

 

Wheeljack opened his right arm’s panel and inserted its cables into a television screen’s ports. He used his free arm to type on a small keyboard that materialize over his cabled arm as a semi-tangible projection, capable of being touched. Wheeljack typed a code that caused the recording on the screen to rewind until the time on the video’s corner went back to six kliks. He pressed a digit over the spacebar, which played the video forward. Hot Rod noticed that someone breaking into Wheeljack’s storage unit. The frame was hunched over and roundish, leading the Firebird to conclude that it was a human and not an Autobot that had done the crime. That was at least one less problem for them. He then noticed that the human’s face was completely obscured thanks to a thick black fabric covering the entire head. Next they pulled out a small gun-shaped tool that was quickly revealed to be a gas weld cutter that melted the steel reinforced door and lock in nano-kliks.

 

“How could a flame that hot break though steel as if it were aluminum foil?” Magnus vented in shock.

 

“And whoever they were they knew what they were doing,” Wheeljack said. “They knew about the exact spot I keep my new inventions and slipped without the perimeter sirens going off.”

 

“Well, to be fair, we do have the security system set on alerting us if there are unknown autonomous robotic organisms approaching the base as apposed to humans.” Magnus said. “We just go on patrols to keep an optic on any organic creatures coming here.”

 

“And why weren’t you two doing that two breems ago?” Wheeljack raised an optical ridge while resting his servos on his hips.

 

Hot Rod and Ultra Magnus locked gazes and quickly looked away before venting awkwardly.

 

“Look, what matters now is that we’re here now and gonna get that thief before they get away.” the red and orange mech promised while punching a fist into his open palm. That was the only warning he gave the other two mecha before he shifted into his Trans Am Pontiac Firebird alt-mode and wasted no time revving up his engines and drove out of the lab.

  
::Hot Rod!:: Ultra Magnus snapped. ::Optimus Prime said-::

 

::He said for you to go to Wheeljack. He didn’t say anything about me:: Hot Rod countered. ::Look, I don’t want to fight you over this but while we still have a chance, we _need_ to catch that thief before they’re gone. You understand, right?::

 

::I do:: Magnus responded shortly. ::But chasing after the perpetrator all willy-nilly with no plan is dangerous. Especially since they might be armed for all we know::

 

Hot Rod chuckled, causing him to slow down his speed. ::Did you seriously just say willy-nilly?::

 

::Rod:: Magnus warned.

 

::Sorry. Sorry:: He wasn’t, not really, but knew it was better to apologize. ::Alright, so do you have a plan?::

 

::Yes. I had reached the watchtower and activated the base’s security defenses. The fences are electrified, refortified by cinderblocks and the front gate has been closed. A Cybertronian can still enter, but an organic being will surely face some difficulties::

 

::How come nobot informed me about all ‘a that?:: the Firebird said in astonishment.

 

::You would have to have been in deep recharge if you weren’t paying attention in the briefings we’ve been doing::

 

::…. Right, yeah, that’s definitely not what I’ve been doing at all. Nope, not me:: Hot Rod held back a nervous laugh as he continued to follow the trail of air conditioner fluid and gasoline exhaust the human’s car was leaving behind.

 

::I see ‘em!:: Hot Rod said after he saw some beaten car in front of the main gate, sputtering black smoke from its tailpipe. In front of the car, a crouched figure stood in front of the fence and placed a small object at the center. Hot Rod used his optics ability to zoom-in and saw that the object was a small black box and that the person was touching the fence with shiny looking hands.

 

_Those aren’t shiny. That’s rubber._ Hot Rod thought. _And that black box. The writing is says it’s a…oh scrap._

 

Hot Rod then sensed the fields of Ultra Magnus and Wheeljack driving not far away from where he was but then realized they were less than twenty meters from the front.

 

TSCHE-chu-chu-chu-TSCHE!

 

Hot Rod changed into his root-mode and waved down the Freightliner FLC112 truck and Lancia Stratos Turbo car. “Stand back! The human’s about to-”

 

BOOM~!

 

Debris made out of rubble, tar and metal spewed out from the blast. The loud noise temporarily disoriented the three Autobots.

 

Hot Rod’s audial receptors rung as he winced and tried lowering the output his processor was receiving from the pain.

 

“-od.”

 

“What?” The red and orange mech called out while setting his optics’ light as high as they could go so he could see through the combined smoke and dust.

 

“Hot Rod!” Ultra Magnus shouted as he appeared in front of the rattled smaller ‘bot. “Are you okay?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Is your equilibrium even?”

 

 “…I think so.” Hot Rod said quietly after testing his pedes.

 

He heard Magnus let out a deep vent. “Thank Primus.”

 

“Where’s Wheeljack?” Hot Rod tried to look around to see if the scientist was nearby and hopefully in one piece like they were. 

 

“I am unable to see him myself.”

 

“I think I might know where he is.” Hot Rod said while pointing at two long lines of tire tracks. The tracks went through the gaping hole of what was once the base’s opening.

 

Ultra Magnus let out another long ven, but this time out of exasperation. “Well, scrap.”

* * *

 

Wheeljack didn’t always consider himself to be a lucky ‘bot but he was sure as Pit glad he had chosen a sports car capable of driving swiftly around bomb explosions. He wasn’t so sure if his undercarriage was going to appreciate scraping against the uneven pavement but he didn’t care. He was on a mission and planned to save his precious creations if it was the last thing he did. Thankfully he had on servo his cannons that he normally had on his shoulders but were currently on top of his roof once he opened up ceiling. The cannons weren’t as slick as Prowl’s, or as lightweight, but they could (read: might) be able to shoot out a harmless little electromagnetic pulse that should hopefully turn off the little red _1985 Yugo GV’s_ battery.

 

_Here goes nothing._ Wheeljack thought while turning on the stun setting in his cannon. The familiar hum of the cannons warming up reached his audials and everything else progressed smoothly. His processor alerted him that the cannons were halfway charged and would be operational in thirty astroseconds.

 

_Pit yeah!_ Wheeljack’s fuel tanks rumbled with glee. _Now to show the human what happens when ya steal from-what just landed in my backseat?_

Wheeljack’s sensors indicated that a small oval shaped metallic objected with square-shaped markings was thrown from the thief’s car and into his. In two Earth seconds he was alerted that the small oblong’s internal structure carried a lit fuse.

 

_Well slag_ , were the only two words Wheeljack could say after the time-delay hand grenade detonated and shot out hot metal shrapnel all through the scientist’s interior.

* * *

 

“Wheeljack!” Hot Rod exclaimed as he and Ultra Magnus rushed over to the fallen mech.

 

Wheeljack was still in his car mode with his undercarriage facing the sky. Smoke spewed out through the broken windows while patches of fire smoldered on the ground. Magnus and Hot Rod gave each other silent nods before the red and oranage mech reverted back in his alt-mode and drove off.

 

“Wheeljack, can you hear me? Are you okay?” Magnus asked after he kneeled over the red, green and white sports car.

 

The Lancia Stratos gave out a pained grunt. “Yeah, I can, kiddo. I’ve had worse experiments happen ta me.”

 

“After I turn you over, do you think you can you still move?”

 

“I think I might.” Wheeljack said. Ultra Magnus carefully lifted Wheeljack a few meters from the ground and turned him until his tires were touching the grass again. The inventor twisted his front wheels and gingerly moved a couple centimeters with a low groan. “I can’t drive fast at this state.”

 

“If you can move enough to enter my trailer I shall take you back to the base,” Magnus requested. “I’ve already comm’ed Ratchet. He’ll be here in the coming breems.”

 

“Ratchet’s gonna give me Pit for this.” Wheeljack said with a weak chuckle that soon turned into a whimper.

 

 “Rest, Wheeljack.” The Freightliner consoled the ailing mech. “Ratchet will be arriving soon.”

 

“How can I, knowing dat little oil stain of a human swiped my inventions?” Wheeljack bemoaned.

 

“Hot Rod is dealing with the situation as we speak.” Magnus said reassuringly.

 

“How?

 

 Ultra Magnus let out the first smile he made in the last Earth hour. “He’s going to have a little help.” 

* * *

 

Hot Rod zoomed like his existence depended on stopping that thief, which it probably was. Regardless he knew he had to get the smaller boxy car to slow down in some way but knew if he got near it the driver might harm him like what they did to Wheeljack.

 

_Well, guess that means I’ll just need to dodge their attacks faster._ the Firebird thought confidently as he gradually sped up. As they drove out into the main road Hot Rod was soon joined by two green trucks with the familiar _S7_ symbols. The human drives dressed in black gave Hot Rod a thumb’s up and Hot Rod honked at them in recognition.

 

In front of them and the speeding supermini was a blockade of half a dozen military cars and the other Autobots with their flood lights brightly on. The mini was forced to swerve slightly to a halt, causing its tires to screech against the pavement.

 

“Get out of the vehicle or I’ll personally make you get out.” Burns shouted as he and that curly-haired human named Simmons approached the small car.

 

_He’s got some big bearings… for a human._ Hot Rod thought, mildly impressed. He then noticed Ratchet and sent a quick comm. message about Wheeljack. Ratchet told him he already knew thanks to Ultra Magnus and moved as swiftly as his emergency vehicle would allow around the cluster of cars and Autobots.

 

Burns didn’t need to repeat himself a second time as the car door slowly pushed open and the human in a trench coat and ski mask came out with their hands up. The leader of Sector 7 and Simmons grabbed both of the person’s hands and pushed them behind their back. For reasons that were beyond Hot Rod’s understanding, every time the person moved his audials picked up a sharp squeaking sound. Unceremoniously, Burns removed the black knitted covering to reveal an older man with frizzy white hair and a look of contempt.

 

“Dr. Arkeville.” Burns said in a mixture of aversion and displeasure.

 

The scientist merely glared at the younger man. Burns in turn ordered a few of his soldiers to go over to the Yugo and comb it for anything. He then commanded Simmons to search Arkeville’s pockets and found a small box-shaped device. The soldiers, who investigated the scientist’s car found large rocket shaped inventions attached to launchers identical to the ones usually attached to Wheeljack and Prowl’s shoulders.

 

“But why?” Optimus said, completely flabbergasted.

 

“Why?” Arkeville echoed mockingly. “Your kind was hoarding the finest armaments that the world has never seen.”

 

He gave askance looks at the Sector 7 agents present. “Can’t you even at least imagine the advancements we could have made with their weaponry? A chance to finally be on top of the USSR and be rid of them? But instead of helping us, these aliens instead give us an upgraded Rosetta stone.”*

 

“Our desire was to help your kind build bridges with each other, not burn them.” Optimus said.

 

Arkeville seemed more upset as he struggled pitifully against Burns and Simmons. “Then what of those Decepticons you keep insisting will come here? Are you to leave us to our inferior weapons while you turn our world into a scorched wasteland?”

 

“I was considering the possibility to allow a select few _trusted_ humans to acquire modified versions of our artillery,” Optimus made it clear which humans he was trusting by briefly looking at Fowler’s direction until he narrowed his optics, “but your actions tonight have made me think to reconsider the idea.”

 

“I guess you didn’t know that your new friends here have the satellite dish the two Decepticons plotted to use to contact your planet?” Arkeville scoffed.

 

“Yes, Agent Burns has told me about the tower Shatter and Dropkick built.” Hot Rod noticed that Charlie and ‘Bee (who stood by with her family) shared surprised expressions. The Firebird assumed that was news to them before he put his attention back on Optimus.

 

“We both had agreed to reverse engineer it into the tower in our that we have been using to alert us of ships that have made planetfall.”

 

Next to Brawn, Jazz nodded quietly in agreement.

 

“But did they tell you what they’ve been doing with the robot parts of those triple-changer Decepticons?” Arkeville smirked while watching the Autobots react to the news with various expressions.

 

Arcee and Jazz dropped their jaws from the revelation. Brawn was taken aback and Bulkhead covered his intake with worry. Prowl kept his mien neutral but was betrayed by his clenched servos. Optimus had widened his own optics but seemed like he wasn’t surprised by the reveal. Just disillusioned.

 

“You have their _parts_?” Ironhide asked the Sector 7 agents accusingly.

 

Burns held a stunned look of his own before it shifted back to anger, as he demanded from Arkeville, “How the Hell do you know about those?”

 

“We never informed you of their triple-changer status.” Fowler added in point of fact.

 

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Arkeville said cryptically. Hot Rod kept his optics straight on the man and noticed that he had twisted his arm every so slightly, which led to the mech seeing a black wire partially hidden by the coat’s sleeve.

 

“Guys look-!” Hot Rod shouted but unfortunately he wasn’t fast enough.

 

Arkeville jerked his hand, activating some device that sent out a large bolt of electricity over his body. Burns and Simons cried out in pain. Their momentary weakness allowed Arkeville to slip away and make a run for it, his body squeaking obnoxiously all the way.

 

“Shoot him down now!” Fowler immediately ordered his troops but it was already too late because the scientist pressed another button on his coat and suddenly became invisible and slipped into the night.

 

“He’s using Wheeljack’s cloaking device!” Bulkhead yelled. He and Brawn volunteered to pursue the thief and rushed after Arkeville. Fowler went along with them with some soldiers while Sally rushed over to check on the fallen men.

 

“Are you alright?” Sally gently pushed Burns onto his back and did the same with Simmons. Charlie explained to Hot Rod and Bumblebee that her mom was checking to see if there any burnt marks or wounds. Everyone was relieved to hear when she said there didn’t appear to be any external damage.

 

“Are they okay on the inside?” Memo asked worriedly.

 

“The electrical blasts may look painful but they shouldn’t be fatal.” Sally reassured the young man.

 

“Yep,” Burns asserted and trying to pull himself up. “I’m so good right now. Totally fine.” He grunted with a wince as he tried to keep moving.

 

“Stay down, Agent Burns.” Sally Watson ordered firmly before pushing him gently back on the ground. Simmons stayed motionless, eyes bulged as though the female shorter than him scared him.

 

_She does sound a little like the Hatchet there._ The Pontiac shuddered at the thought.

 

“I rarely hear my mom talk like that to anyone but me.” Hot Rod heard Charlie whisper to ‘Bee.

 

Hot Rod watched the Camaro chuckle. “You weren’t there at the base on the night when she and I learned Polar Claw landed in Yosemite.”

   

“We weren’t aware that you have the frames of Blitzwing, Dropkick and Shatter.” Optimus said after he kneeled before the humans. He stared directly at Burns, his right arm resting on his bent right knee. The other arm concealed by his back.

 

The man let out a sigh and had the decency to appear ashamed.  

 

“The truth is we only have a few parts.” Burns admitted. “More of them are too burned up or melted after the robots were destroyed.” He spared a glance at Bumblebee’s direction. “Your scout was pretty thorough at terminating them.”

 

“To withhold this information from us, for this long is unscrupulous.” Optimus posited with a heavy vent.

 

“Why did you keep this info from us?” Jazz demanded, his visor glowing brightly and his tone devoid of his customary laidback attitude.

 

“Better yet, why did you keep the detached parts from us?” Prowl questioned, his doorwings straightened in a predatory manner that went over the heads of the humans except for Charlie.

 

“It was because of them.” Burns answered.

 

“The Decepticons?” Optimus asked.

 

“Over a year ago we learned we were not alone in the universe when of them to hunt down your scout and decimated a whole battalion of train army soldiers in five seconds, leaving one man, me, alive.” Burns pointed to himself to the side where his scar was visible.

 

Hot Rod swallowed down the coolant that was forming inside his intake. The tension was growing dangerously high.

 

“In August that same year two more came and killed one civilian and a great scientist with technology beyond ours. We tried to fight Bumblebee only to find out that not only were we outgunned, but outclassed since his artillery can destroy armored vehicles with less than two laser blasts.”

 

Optimus’ optics lowered while he assessed the intelligence. He returned his attention to Burns and said, “Surely you understand now that the Autobots and I wish to coexist peacefully with humanity.”

 

“But you can’t say the same thing for the Decepticons, right?” Burns retorted squarely. He continued, “What’s to say for sure that they’re the only aliens out there who want to invade us? It took my government less than a year to discover that we’re no longer the top dogs when it comes to advance technology. Can you imagine if the rest of the world got wind of this? What America’s enemies could and would do?”

 

“I don’t think you’re focusing on the big picture here,” Ironhide cut in. “We’re tryin’ ta protect yer world, including yer so-called enemies.”

 

“Well, I can be less paranoid if the security on your base was efficient enough to keep a middle-aged man from repeatedly sneaking into it right from under your nose.”

 

The red Dodge Caravan growled and made a step forward but was pushed back by Prowl who shook his helm once in disproval.

 

“Perhaps your meddling with the remains of the triple-changers was what inspired Arkeville to become acquisitive with our technology.” Arcee tried to rationalize. “There’s a chance he might’ve thought humans were ready to conduct further with non-damaged armory. He probably felt desperate as the rest of Sector 7.”

 

“The Decepticons forced our hand,” Burns replied. “They took our men it only seemed reasonable we took something from them. An eye for an eye.”

  
“What you essentially did is like grave robbing to us.” Ironhide said brusquely. “I ain’t sympathizin’ with any Decepticreeps but they deserve a decent burial, even if they’re nothing but spare parts ta ya.”

* * *

 

Nearby, Bumblebee and Charlie watched on with her remaining family and friends.

 

“I don’t think I like where this is escalating,” ‘Bee said to the humans while keeping his optics trained on Ironhide and Agent Burns. 

 

“You and me both.” Memo whispered back. 

 

“There just has to be something we could do to stop them from arguing.” Chip said.

 

“I’m not sure that I’m comfortable seeing your mother near them while they’re arguing.” Ron said as he held Conan in his arms and glanced at the Watson children.

 

“I bet ten bucks Ironhide can pulverize Mr. Burns.” Otis wagered.

 

“Otis!” Ron cried, scandalized at his stepson.

 

“What? I thought we’re supposed to be rooting for the Autobots?”

 

“We still don’t want them to kill anyone.”

 

The Camaro’s Spark frizzed with concern over the scene and knelt down so that he was leveled with his best human friend. Charlie had remained still since they arrived at the crossroads with her eyes trained on Arkeville until after he ran off and she put her focus on the conflict between the Autobots and Sector 7. Her arms were crossed and kept a straight face while she watched the proceedings before her.

 

“Charlie,” ‘Bee said in an undertone. “If things turn ugly I’ll comm. Hot Rod and he’ll help me take you all back home.”

 

The mechanic regarded the yellow and black robot before shaking her head no at the offer. Instead she straightened her shirt, ensuring her swimsuit was still concealed, and then marched forward.

 

“Charlie, what are you doing?”

 

“I’m supposed to be your liaison, remember?” She spared ‘Bee and the other humans one glance before she resumed walking. “I’m gonna go do my job.”

* * *

 

Optimus decided that the situation could have been a lot worse than it actually was. Both Ironhide and Agent Burns could have had brandished two spears and come to blows. Or a cannon and gun respectfully, or the Autobot would transform into his alt-mode and chase Burns around the area until one of them finally admitted who was right.

 

Yet, a small pessimistic part of his processor willfully interjected. He deleted that line of code at once and concentrated on the big picture. He sensed a faint pat on his mid-tibulen and turned around to see Charlie’s hand over his plating.** The Freightliner pulled his attention away from the ongoing dispute and onto the female.

 

“Is there something you need, Charlie?” he asked.  

 

The mechanic appeared troubled before she answered, “I want to help cool out Burns and Ironhide before they start trying to wrestle each other. As hilarious as that might look, I don’t want it to lead to you having to leave or worse.”

 

Optimus frowned behind his battle mask before he said to Charlie, “You understand that Sector 7 kept vital information from us. We only wish to know why.”

 

“I don’t think Ironhide remembers that.” Charlie said, glancing slightly at the red plated mech and the red faced man, watching their arguing heat up. Optimus decided that they had gone at it long enough.

 

He loudly reset his vocalizer with an, “Ahem,” garnering the boisterous mech and human male to cease their quarrel. While Burns looked confounded and Ironhide mortified, Sally gave the taller mech a grateful stare as she finished checking over the now still former Army Ranger and Simmons before returning back to her family.

 

“Charlie has something she wishes to say,” Optimus said to the two. “I would think it be wise to hear her out.”

 

“Uh, yeah sure.” Ironhide responded.

 

“I guess that’s fine.” Burns added with slight befuddlement in his voice.

 

Optimus vented heavily and turned his helm to return his gaze on Charlie. “If you have some input that you wish to tell me, I would appreciate it anytime.”

 

“Okay,” Charlie nodded before she took a breath and looked earnestly at the red and blue truck.

 

“Just to be clear, I don’t agree that Sector 7 should’ve kept what they had and knew about the triple-changers from you. Buuuut, you have to understand that they must’ve felt like they needed to defend themselves. Not from you, obviously, but the Decepticons.” Charlie inclined her head towards the government agents’ direction without skipping a beat.

 

“Americans and humans in general are protective about what _we_ care about, which is most importantly our home and wanting to keep it from being taken from us.” She placed a hand over where her heart would be and gave the three elders a fervent stare.

 

“That’s kinda why July 4th is special to us. It’s a reminder of what we have and what we could’ve lost centuries ago. You understand that, don’t you?”

 

“Yes.” The Freightliner nodded.

 

“People like Arkeville don’t understand that and don’t want to. He was only interested in your technology and didn’t want to learn who you really were. Agent Burns and Agent Fowler did. They helped convince those generals to let you stay, they allowed you to live at the Milky Way, they went to Cliffjumper’s funeral. Arkeville is just looking after himself and was trying to make us start disagreeing with each other. I saw him smirking, he knew what he said would get you all angry. If we start arguing and break our agreement to work together we won’t be much of a threat to anyone, including the Decepticons if they do eventually come here.”   

 

Optimus could only stare in wonderment at the human. For a full Earth minute he said nothing before he let out a small chuckle and looked proudly at the mechanic.

 

She had once again surprised him with her discernment. The words Charlie said about her government went straight to Optimus’ Spark. Humans and Cybertronians didn’t share any identical biology but what they did and how they acted were quite similar.

 

“Sometimes even the wisest man and machines can be in error,” he venerated to all the beings present. He got up to his pedes and addressed to everyone, “I agree with what Charlie said; we cannot let the words of one man breakdown the fragile peace we have built between our species. Holding on to petty disputes will prevent us from winning the war and taking back our home, Autobots. We must not stoop to Arkeville’s level. He will not defeat us this easily. While it is true that Sector 7 kept a grave secret from us, we too have withheld information from them, but no more.”

 

Optimus situated himself to the ground again and stared directly at Burns. “Agent Burns, I am willing to share what I can with you if you are willing to do the same. We mustn’t let a moment like this repeat itself.”

 

Burns looked squarely at the Prime, considering his proposal. He let out a weighty sigh before mouth changed from a thin line to a little smile. He offered a hand to Optimus who pulled out a digit to shake it.

 

“I know I’ll be kicking myself later if I let the only people capable of stopping our _real_ enemies leave.” Burns said ultimately.

 

“We shall not let your race pay for our mistakes.” Optimus promised after they finished their hand-servo shake. He then added, “We will talk about this issue with you at a more convenient time.”

 

“The same goes back to you.”

 

Ironhide approached the two leaders with a Sparkfelt expression on his faceplates and rubbed the back of his neck guard, guilty. “I’m ah sorry fer what I was insinuatin’ earlier. You got yer reasons fer doin’ things yer way and I’ll learn tah respect that. There’s a lot on this planet and how it works that’s still new tah me and tah all of us.”

 

“And I’ll keep my promise with Optimus about sharing anything we know about your race if we find something before you.”

 

Optimus smiled behind his mask and nodded in ratification. “Though the circumstances we are in aren’t ideal we must learn to overcome the obstacles ahead of us together. After all, if it took a lot more than a month for this country to grow it shall for us as well.”

* * *

 

_My work here is done._ Charlie thought with a simpering smile as she watched the two sides make amends. She sauntered back to where her family and friends were and all but one rushed over to her. Sally and Ron congratulated her on a job well done. Otis looked like he could respect her a bit more while Memo and Chip asked questions about how she became the Autobots official liaison and if there were similar occupations open. Once she said all she could to the humans she went over to the one person who hadn’t immediately run to her. She stood where ‘Bee was and leaned against his leg.

 

“So?” Charlie inquired. “How did you think I went?”

 

‘Bee huffed out an amused laugh. “Great, like you always do.”

 

Charlie creased her brows in intrigue. “That’s putting a lot of faith on me, don’t you think?”

 

“Is it really faith if I already know you can do it?” ‘Bee countered back with a helm tilt, his optics glowing warmly at her. “I don’t see why you need me to validate you when I already know you won’t mess up.”

 

The mechanic was floored by the confidence Bumblebee had in her. She then wondered if the reason he asked what she was doing earlier was more inclined with her physical actions as apposed to her taking responsibility.

 

‘Bee then narrowed his optics and ex-vented with an amusement glint in them. “But if you really want it, good job,” he said before giving her a wink.

 

“T-thanks, ‘Bee.” she stuttered for some reason she couldn’t fathom.

 

Charlie then wondered why ‘Bee’s commendation mattered so much to her as a unknown feeling tried nestling its way into her heart. She mentally shook away the thoughts and talked aloud to her friend and shifted into a new topic.

 

Fowler returned ten minutes later with the rest of his squad not far behind.

 

“Bad news?” Burns eyed his partner.

 

The African American groused, “Arkeville was able to slip outta our fingers like the snake he was. We saw his footprints move downhill and he reached a black SUV with tinted windows. The side door then opened on its own and then closed by itself.”

 

“Could it perhaps be a Decepticon?” Optimus asked.

 

“Couldn’t tell, the car already drove out before any of us could reach the bottom of the hill. But get this, the car turned invisible right as it started to drive out on the road.”

 

“What about Bulkhead and Brawn?” ‘Bee asked after he noticed that the Lamborghini truck and Land Rover weren’t present. “Where are they?”

 

Fowler frowned, the lines above his eyebrows furrowed into a ‘v’. “I was just about to say that. The two of them charged after the car but were shot by two blasts that came from the car’s gun attachment on its roof. The shots appeared to be similar to what your blade and Miss Watson’s necklace and whatever electrical suit Arkeville was wearing under that coat of his.”

 

“Like they were ESD blasts?” Charlie reluctantly offered.

 

Fowler nodded to her answer. Charlie gulped and consciously thumbed the border of her Angry Bee charm.

 

“Private Bulkhead and Combat Engineer Brawn. Where is their exact position?” Prowl mandated from Fowler.

 

“On Seaglass Drive, two miles from here. I left a couple of my men to look after them.”

 

“Ironhide, Jazz.” The police cruiser instructed the two ‘bots to follow him. The Spec Ops and Weapons Specialist took on their vehicle modes and awaited their further orders.

 

“Just what we need, Arkeville’s probably off to go sell it to Gorbachev and the Soviets.” Burns objected while he and Simmons helped each other to get back up.

 

“Gor-bage Oven?” Bumblebee unintentionally butchered. Charlie couldn’t help herself but giggle, leading ‘Bee to frown.

 

“No, Gore-baa-chau-ff,” Fowler slowly enunciated. “Mikhail Gorbachev.”

 

“Who’s he?” ‘Bee asked.

 

“The General Secretary of the Communist Party of the Soviet Union.” Prowl answered before any of the humans could.

 

“How do you know that?” Burns asked, his tone edging on anxiousness.

 

“I am a Military Strategist for the Autobot Resistance.” Prowl stated bluntly. “I make it my top priority to study the world leaders as to better understand them if the time ever came to contacting with one of them in case the Decepticons plan to invade their territory. Or something else.”

 

No one seemed to need to ask what other implications he meant.

 

“You didn’t have to.”

 

“On the contrary, I find learning about new cultures quite fascinating.” Prowl rebutted with a small smile. “I find it especially interesting that despite how different yours and the Russian government seemingly are, you both handle foreign policy in similar manners.”

 

“That better be a joke.”

 

“I thought of it as a compliment.” Prowl said sincerely with an optical ridge raised towards Burns.

 

“What Prowler means is that he thinks you’re very good at being efficient and know how ta keep other people on their toes.” Jazz said in his Porsche alt-mode.

 

“I think in time you might come to value the aid of those who you once considered your adversaries.” Prowl advised coolly as he shifted into his Ford Victoria disguise leading the red van and other black and white car down the road.

 

“What was so funny earlier?” ‘Bee asked pointedly to Charlie.

 

“You have a universal translator and somehow you can’t say a Russian name properly?” The mechanic laughed, trying in vain to cover her mouth.

 

Bumblebee’s antennae flattened. “It’s tricky to switch the English setting off when I’m used to speaking like that, okay?”

 

“Alright,” Charlie raised her arms to placate the yellow ‘bot. “No need to get upset. I was just teasing.”

 

“I propose that we head back to ensure that the base is secure and to see how Wheeljack is recovering.” Optimus suggested to his unit. He also told them that he sent the same message to Prowl who will allocate it to the others who aren’t present.

 

The Autobots transformed as Burns and Fowler went back to their car with the remaining Sector 7 agents. Charlie and her family piled into ‘Bee, fitting into bit of a tight squeeze while Memo and Chip hitched a ride with Hot Rod who modified one of his seats so Chip’s wheelchair could comfortably latch to the Firebird’s floor. They all arrived at the base in four minutes. As soon as the humans were situated inside most of the Autobots rushed to Ratchet’s infirmary to go see Wheeljack. ‘Bee dutifully stayed behind with Charlie and her family but she noticed the concerned glances he threw towards the infirmary.

 

“’Bee if you want to go see Wheeljack, it’s okay.” Charlie reassured her friend.

 

The Camaro appeared conflicted. “But I’m supposed to look after you.”

 

Charlie smiled encouragingly.

 

“It’s fine. My family and I are inside the base, probably the safest place to be right now. Go see your friend.” she urged him again.

 

‘Bee gave Charlie one last look before he nodded and walked hurriedly along the direction everyone but Optimus Prime went. He stayed behind to speak with Burns and Fowler, presumably to talk about all those secrets they needed to share. The three of them, however, did start walking in the same path the other Autobots went to apparently see Wheeljack but talked heavily along the way. Charlie rightfully decided to leave the three leaders alone and recommend that they all wait by the stage.

 

While the six civilians headed to the stage, Sally caught up with Charlie and walked next to her, far enough so no one could overhear them.

 

“So,” the nurse began. “Do you remember when we were heading up to stop Dr. Arkeville you and ‘Bee mentioned that offer Optimus Prime and Ratchet made?”

 

Charlie wetted her lips while fighting the urge to look away.

 

“Sweetheart, I’m not trying to be the bad guy here.” Sally said easily. “I just want to know how you feel about it.”

 

The mechanic felt a little calmer by her mom’s words and said, “I really think it’s a good idea. Not only will I’ll be getting paid to do and learn what I love but I’ll be more useful to the Autobots and be helping them out.”

 

“Like what you did earlier wasn’t helpful enough?” Sally to some extent joked, referring to when Charlie negotiated with Optimus and Burns.

 

“I also want to keep doing that too, I just want to help any way that I can.”

 

“Is that the only reason?” Sally asked before adding, “I don’t want you to think you need to help them because you feel obligated. This choice should be more than just that.”

 

“It is,” Charlie said. “Remember that night we all went out for Chinese and Ron told me that I would find where I belonged one day?”

 

She didn’t wait for her mother to answer and continued, “I think it’s with the Autobots. I know he was referring to college and I want to do that too, but ever since I reunited with ‘Bee and met his friends, I just felt like I have this connection with him, Optimus, Ratchet, Jazz and Brawn. I’m not sure about Bulkhead and Hot Rod yet, but I like them. I think I like all of them to be honest.

 

“Maybe I’m strange for saying all of this but I want to be with them. I want to learn more about them and their world and I feel like I was missing something until I met ‘Bee and the Autobots. I also feel like I’m needed when I’m with them like I have with you and Otis and Ron. What I have with them feels stronger than friendship but just as close.”

 

Charlie gave her mother a relived smile before she finished, “They also make me feel like I’m doing something good with my life. Like I’m accomplishing something with Dad again but _more_.”

 

Sally searched Charlie’s face for a moment before giving her a small smile. “After what I saw today I believe you do have a purpose with them. That doesn’t mean I want you to go on any missions with them.”

 

“Absolutely, one-hundred percent agree with you.” Charlie quickly said. As much as she cared about her Autobot friends she knew that as a human she wouldn’t be much use in a real fight between them and the Decepticons.

 

“You know a month ago I would’ve said no and tried to keep you away but I understand from what Ratchet said and Optimus Prime’s advice that you mean a lot to them.” Sally’s smile grew. “Not just to Bumblebee but to all of them. And what you did earlier to disperse the tension was incredible. I meant what I said when I said how proud I was of you and still am.” The shorter woman’s smile then turned crooked before lightheartedly saying, “But I’m your mom, I’ll always be biased like that.”

 

“Even when you don’t always show it?” Charlie accidently slipped out and visually winced apologetically at her mom.

 

Her mother gave her a resigned, but understanding look and nodded. “Even then and I am sorry how rough I was with you before and if you felt like I was favoring Otis over you, I never meant that.”

 

“I know, Mom.” She really did mean it. 

 

“If you really want the job and think you can do a lot of good, you can go tell Optimus Prime. You are eighteen after all, you’re old enough to make your own choices.”

 

“But not old enough to drink?” Charlie teased

 

Sally frowned and deadpanned, “No.”

 

“C’mon, not even on the Fourth of July?”

 

“Not until you’re twenty-one, young lady.”

 

“Aww, mom.”

* * *

 

Location: Autobots Base [Med Bay], CA. Time: 2100 Hours

 

Even with more than half of the unit inside the infirmary was still large as ever. ‘Bee was the last to arrive and saw everybot else had congregated by a slab. He correctly assumed it was where Wheeljack was situated and made his way there.

 

The Calvary scout held back a grimace at seeing all the shrapnel and spots of dried Energon that had leaked out from the wounds. The Lancia’s metal mouth slabs were dented in places and whenever he ex-vented it came out as a wheeze.

 

“Will he be okay, Ratchet?” ‘Bee heard Ultra Magnus say. He hadn’t noticed until then that Ultra Magnus was the closest to the medical berth and needed to crouch down from how tall his shoulders were.

 

Ratchet scanned a datapad and wearily nodded. “It’ll take me all night just to get these pieces of metal fragments out of him but thankfully he isn’t bleeding out anymore. After I reshape his dents, refuel his tank and have him recharge for half a mega-cycle, Wheeljack will be well enough to make all the crazy little gadgets to his Spark’s content.”

 

The inventor uttered a chuckle. “I’ll be sure ta start working on a thank ya gift for good ol’ Mags for saving my aft back there on da road.”

 

“He wouldn’t have needed to save your aft if you hadn’t recklessly drove after Arkeville.” Rachet scolded.

 

“I couldn’t let that thief get away.”

 

“You should’ve left that to Ultra Magnus or Optimus when he arrived with Sector 7.”

 

“You all were taking too long,” the red, white and green mech said stubbornly.

 

Ratchet’s right optic started to twitch when the Supreme Commander came in with Agent Burns and Fowler in tow. All the healthy mecha and femm stood by attention to their leader while Wheeljack threw a half-sparked salute.

 

“At ease Autobots.” Optimus nodded to the ‘bots before he approached Wheeljack once everybot moved aside to give the Freightliner FL86 some space. “You certainly gave us quite a scare after Ultra Magnus reported us about your injuries.”

 

Wheeljack strained enough to give a smile. “What? This?” He gestured to his abrasions. “I’m made of tougher stuff than this, Prime. I’ll be speeding around in my stylish alt-mode in no time.”

“Just remember to take the first few days easy, old friend. I’m sure Ratchet won’t want you coming back right after he patched you up.” Optimus joked, causing the others to laugh knowingly.

 

“I definitely won’t want that,” the medic muttered to himself while folding his arms.

 

Optimus moved a few steps to the side to allow Burns and Fowler to approach the slab. Arcee quickly brought two crates for them to stand on so that the humans could actually see above the block and Wheeljack.

 

“Agent Burns and Agent Fowler would like you to answer a few questions if you feel like you’re up to it.” Optimus explained to the inert scientist.

 

“Heh, I could take on Shockwave in an inventing contest,” the glowing finned mech feebly boasted.

 

“Yeah, sure you can.” Hot Rod snorted.

 

Burns cleared his throat and asked, “Wheeljack, you are the only one who has been in your unit’s storage facility the most. Do you know what Arkeville was stealing from you? Was there any patterns to his thefts?”

 

Wheeljack attempted to push himself up to look at the man properly but struggled. Ultra Magnus gently moved his upper frame until he was sitting instead of lying down. The scientist stared at the agent. “Arkeville took some very sensitive projects from me. Things should not have fallen to the wrong servos. Or hands in his case.”

 

‘Bee’s optics widened as he sensed the others concerned fields. 

 

“Burns and Simmons took this out of one of his pockets.” Fowler brandished the black box and handed it to Wheeljack.

 

“This is my Mirage Cloaking prototype.” Wheeljack revealed after examining the doohickey.

 

“Obviously, Arkeville was able to replicate the technology judging from his car and that black SUV.” Fowler stated.

 

“Dats why some of my parts for it were missin’ because he took it.” Wheeljack’s optics glowered as he glowered.

 

“Is there a way you can still make a working cloaking device?” Optimus asked.

 

“Sure, I have some extra components and I can substitute some Earth tech for the ones I don’t have.” Wheeljack said casually.

 

“Our men also found a few rockets out of Arkeville’s car.” Burns added.

 

Wheeljack chuckled. “Those weren’t rockets. They’re da fireworks I made for tonight.”

 

For a whole minute the room was entirely silent save for the beeps from Ratchet’s machine that read Wheeljack’s Spark pulse.

 

“You chased down someone and planned to shot them just for fireworks?” Arcee said slowly.

 

Wheeljack chastened sheepishly, “I was only gonna stun ‘im.”

 

“So aside from the cloaking device, the only things that Arkeville stole from you were fireworks?” Burns recapped dryly.

 

“Fireworks that I designed and built myself.” Wheeljack said vehemently.

 

“Wheeljack, what have I told you about making a mountain out of a glitch-mole hill?” Ratchet griped.

 

The Lancia’s face slabs melded into a frown as he looked at his digits. “They woulda made the festivities ta’night even more amazing and I worked really hard on ‘em.”

 

Naturally that response made everybot but Optimus and Ultra Magnus vent out in mild annoyance.

 

“Can we focus on the main problem here?” Fowler raised a hand. “The cloaking device was still stolen and Dr. Arkeville somehow made enough copies for him and whoever he has been working with behind the government’s back.”

 

“I’ve already alerted all the Sector 7 agents here and the surrounding cities to be on the look out.” Burns said.

 

“As long as no civilians are harmed we must find out the whereabouts of Dr. Arkeville promptly and whoever he is in service to.” Optimus told the Autobots.

 

“What about Charlie, her family and her friends?” Bumblebee asked. “Arkeville knows about them. What if he tells whoever he’s working for about them?”

 

“You will continue to act as the Watsons’ guardian.” Optimus assured the scout.

 

‘Bee ex-vented in relief saying, “I won’t let you or Charlie down.”

 

The red and blue truck looked over to where Hot Rod stood. “Private Hot Rod, for your first mission in Unit Prime I’m placing you to be the acting guardian for Guillermo Gutierrez and Chip Chase. You will go with them back to Pasadena and ensure no harm comes to them.”

 

‘Bee noticed Hot Rod’s faceplate shifted from surprise before he quickly shook it off and appeared nonplussed.

 

“Um, wouldn’t it make more sense if they stayed here?” the Firebird asked.

 

“The last thing we want is to uproot the humans from their normal lives.” Optimus instructed placidly. “Charlie’s friends are now aware of our existence and know the location of our base. Your frame, while ostentatious, can still blend in an urban environment in time. We will have a ‘bot send you Energon supplies every few weeks to replenish yourself. Ratchet will install an antenna Wheeljack has developed to allow your comm. to reach ours here despite the hundreds of meters between us.”

 

Hot Rod looked less perturbed but still frowned with worry. “I’ll still be pretty far from you if something bad happens.”

 

“Wheeljack and Bulkhead have been working on something that should fix that issue, but I am certain from the training you’ve been through and the experience on the battlefield that you will be an excellent protector to our new human allies.”

 

‘Bee saw Hot Rod perk up exuberantly from the belief Optimus had in him and straightened his frame. “I’ll do my best, sir.”

 

Optimus nodded. “That’s all I can ask from you.”

 

When Prowl, Ironhide and Jazz returned with Brawn and Bulkhead the FL86 Freightliner repeated what he said to the other members of the unit. He then adjourned the impromptu meeting, allowing everybot to disassemble. ‘Bee quickly found Charlie and her family by the old stage and informed them after Optimus gave him permission to do so.

* * *

  

Location: Autobot Base [Milky Way Screen Stage], CA. Time: 2130 Hours

 

Charlie had started to become drowsy by the time Bumlebee arrived to where she and her family and friends were. She then became hyperaware, like she had drunk twelve cups of espresso (Ha, like she could’ve afford _that_ with her old paycheck). No one could blame her after what ‘Bee told her about Arkeville having stolen the cloaking device, his involvement with some shady organization and that Memo and Chip will be partnered up with Hot Rod.

 

The mechanic had been originally standing up to greet her friend with a hug until she needed to sit down again after he dumped all that information onto her. Charlie tapped her fingers against one knee as she tried to absorb everything.

 

“I’m sorry this Fourth of July didn’t go originally as planned.” ‘Bee said despondently, presumably sensing Charlie’s troubled demeanor.

 

Charlie sighed while looking up at ‘Bee’s worried optics. She smiled, touched at his concern even if he was misreading the situation. Charlie stretched her arms as a way to ease off the tension she had in them.

 

“It was fun while it lasted and at least nobody is dead.” Charlie said while getting back up once her mother declared they should be heading back home. After ‘Bee and Hot Rod gave them all a lift back to the beach to get their stationwagon back. As they headed back to a wide enough opening for ‘Bee to drive through he walked next to Charlie, his pedes thumping loudly against her sandals.

 

“Gotta stay positive, right?” ‘Bee chimed back.

 

“Yep,” Charlie said with a slight laugh in her voice. It was hard to remain feeling sad or mad with him around. She also decided it was probably best to not worry too much so she wouldn’t stress over anything. “And you know what, there’s always next year.”

 

“Just as long as we’re not in the middle of a intergalactic battle.” Chip said as he rolled next to the other two.

 

Memo shuddered before throwing a stare at the others.

 

“Do you have to say that? I would much rather prefer thinking that the Earth won’t be the battleground of another planet’s civil war, thank you very much.”

 

“Sorry Memo.” Charlie apologized to her human best friend with a tired smile.

 

“Didn’t mean to make you wig-out,” Chip said.

 

“I just want this night to end on a happy note, you know?”

 

‘Bee paused for a second before stating, “The stars look nice tonight.”

 

Charlie and the rest of the humans gazed at the sky, seeing nothing but twinkling lights scattered across the cosmos with only the occasional firework temporarily concealing the natural display every minute.

 

“You’re right, ‘Bee it is beautiful out to-”

 

“Oh no.” ‘Bee interrupted her, his expression devoid of his previous cheerfulness.

 

Charlie felt an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of her stomach. “’Bee?”

* * *

 

Location: Autobot Base [Spider Shed], CA. Time: Five kliks ago

 

“So, Optimus told me I’m gonna be leaving with Chip and Memo tomorrow.” Hot Rod said.

 

“I know,” Ultra Magnus reminded him.

 

“I was present when he had given you the orders,” he unintentionally snapped. Magnus wasn’t sure why he spoke that way. The Freightliner FLC112 acted as if he didn’t wished to recall an order from the Supreme Commander.

 

Hot Rod seemed to recoil from Magnus’ tone. The red, white and blue truck quickly asked for forgiveness and the Firebird waved him off.

 

“It’s fine, Magnus. The reason I brought that whole thing up is because I wanted to ask you if you were cool with keeping the commlink connected between us?”

 

Ultra Magnus reset his optics, somewhat confused. “I don’t think I’ll be the one presented with the duty of delivering materials and Energon to you.”

Hot Rod laughed, his frame glowing burgundy under the light of a nearby lamp. For a brief second Magnus thought he could grow accustomed to hearing the speedster’s laughter and enjoy it further if he initiated the response.

 

After the smaller mech stopped he wiped a drop of coolant from his optics and shook his helm. “I meant I wanted us to stay connected so we could talk some more when I’m gone.”

 

“But for what purpose?”

 

“Maybe because I like talking with you?” Hot Rod offered a small smile.

 

“Oh,” Magnus blushed. “I see.”

 

“I’ve already asked ‘Bee and Bulkhead if I could do the same with them and they agreed.”

 

“Oh.” Ultra Magnus responded a bit more unenthusiastically. For reasons he couldn’t grasp he felt displeased to hear that he wasn’t going to be the only one Hot Rod would be chatting with exclusively over a comm.

* * *

 

 Hot Rod felt a twinge at seeing the big truck deflate. It wasn’t obvious but the change was subtle with the way Magnus’ broad shoulders sagged and the minute way his restrained smile diminished into a small frown.

_I thought he would’ve been a little bit happy._ Hot Rod contemplated whether or not to ask what the tall mech’s deal was when the proverbial ping from a comm. request played in his processor.

 

::What-:: Hot Rod started to say but was hurriedly cut off.

 

::All Autobots report to the tower:: Optimus Prime rich octave rang over the commlink. ::Jazz and Arcee have discovered that a ship is making plantefall… and it is a Decepticon battle crusier::

 

Hot Rod and Magnus spared each other a glance before they shifted immediately into their alt-modes and drove faster than earlier that night.

 

**End of Chapter 17**

* * *

  

**Q-A:** (Imitating the sloth, Belt from _The Croods_ ) Dun-dun-dun!

So, it’s finally happened. For really realsies this time. No Eukarians, no Autobots piloting stolen ships, it’s the genuine article Decepticons. Are you excited? I’m excited and I already know what’s going to happen. XD So this chapter shout-out is going to _Porcelain_Dreams_ since Porcelain_Dreams made a pretty great conspiracy theory on which the identity of the thief was even though it wasn't exactly what Porcelain_Dreams thought it was. (Sorry, if that sounded weird but I don’t know their exact gender)

Speaking of which, I know some of you might disagree with how I handled that whole argument between the Autobots and Sector 7.

You’re probably are thinking that there should’ve been a great fallout between the two sides, like have the Autobots officially cut ties with the U.S government and go on the run right? Well, the reason I didn’t do that is because I’ve read a few stories where that happened and Michael Bay did that like three times in his own franchise and honestly I’m getting sick of those types of plot-threads. The Autobots and the Government is ultimately going to make up in those types of stories anyway and Charlie’s job is trying to soothe the tension between the two of them in the first place. The reason Burns forgave the Autobots so easily is because he knows from personal experience that the humans are no match against the Decepticons by themselves and need all the help they can get. Optimus isn’t too thrilled at hearing that S7 was hiding something from him but understood it after Burns and Charlie explained why and the red truck knew he’d be sounding hypocritical if he got all defensive about the situation. Which is the reason why they agreed to work it out since Optimus knows the Autobots don’t have anywhere else to go and they genuinely want to protect the humans.

So, yeah that’s my two cents. I hope I didn’t offend anyone who loves those types of narratives, if you do, more power to ya! :) If I did, I apologize.

Now, I’m about to do something weird here and give out a recommendation. Not for a fanfic or something TF related but a webcomic. A week ago I read an article that the Jim Henson Company is planning to produce an animated series based on a _Webtoon_ comic called _Lore Olympus_.

I never heard of this comic before (I apologize for those of you who do know of it and scoff at the philistine that I am for not discovering it sooner) so I decided I had written my quota for a day and read…. The first thirty-five chapters until it was like one in the morning. XD So, yeah I love it. It’s basically a modern-ish retelling of the myth Hades and Persephone but with a few other myths thrown in the mix. The author goes out of her way of making most of the characters very relatable and charming (her version of Hecate is my favorite) and the art style is gorgeous! Not to mention all the casual references to the Greek mythos that would make Rick Riordan blush. And you know the best thing is? It’s totally free. You can read all the chapters without needing to subscribe or pay anything. :D

I must warn some people that it definitely warrants a high T or low M-rating with the swearing and has one or two chapters that involve some uncomfortable subject matter involving nonconsensual sex. If you don’t like dealing with that then that’s fine but it’s only in two chapters and the author is kind enough to leave a warning. I will say that skipping them won’t cause a reader to get too confused either since characters in the story talk about it but without any graphic details. I still highly recommend the story to anyone that has even the slightest interest in Greek Mythology, or just want to read an 80+ multi-chapter story about two dorks falling in love but have the worst meddlesome families/friends who keep getting in the way. XDDD

 

References:

 

*I’m referring to the actual Rosetta stone and not the software since that won’t officially exist until the 1990s.

**Tibulen is the Cybertronian word for thigh. Or at least a made up one that I found on <http://transformersgalaxyrp.freeforums.net/thread/9/transformers-body-parts>

 

Songs Used:

 

She Blinded Me With Science by Thomas Dolby

 

~Please give comments, kudos and subscribe. I’ll answer any questions to the best of my abilities. :D And be sure to…

 

Keep on Writin’ and Rockin’ 


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